iy FRANCES BROWNE 
with an Introduction Av 































































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GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR 
























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King Winwealth sat on his ivory throne in a rohe 

of purple velvet 


GRANNY’S 

WONDERFUL CHAIR 

BY 

FRANCES BROWNE 

ii 

WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY 

FRANCES HODGSON BURNETT 

ENTITLED 

THE STORY OF THE 

LOST FAIR Y BOOK 



THE ILLUSTRATIONS AND 
DECORATIONS BY EDITH TRUMA 


N 


NEW YORK 

McCLURE, PHILLIPS & CO. 
MCMIV 


Co p IX* Q. ^ 


*-WRW 

UBRAfff 9* QQIWKESS 
Jwo Oopmk ftecoiv«j 

SEP 22 1904 

Copyright entry 

Z2./?0* 

CLASS a XX o. ha 

7X07? 

COPT » 



Copyright , 1904, 6_y 
McCLURE, PHILLIPS & CO. 


Published, September, 1904 


CONTENTS 

INTRODUCTORY 3 

THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO 19 

THE LORDS OF THE WHITE AND 
GREY CASTLES 57 

THE GREEDY SHEPHERD 85 

THE STORY OF FAIRYFOOT 101 

THE STORY OF CHILDE CHARITY . .127 

SOUR AND CIVIL 147 

THE STORY OF MERRYMIND 177 

PRINCE WISE WITS RETURN 205 
















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LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


King JV inwealth sat on his ivory throne 

in a robe of purple velvet . Frontispiece 

Facing 

Page 

Scrub and Fair feather did not perceive a 

very thin old woman 4.0 

The lady slipped her holly branch through 

the ivy 66 

Two little ladies clad in green talked close 

beside him no 

In marched a troop of little men clothed in 

crimson and gold 132 

Three fair ladies with sea-green gowns 
and strings of pearls wound round 
' their long fair hair 132 

By the fireless hearth there sat two fair 

maidens spinning 196 

Prince Wisewit went home leading Snow- 

flower by the hand 206 











THE STORY OF THE LOST 
FAIRY BOOK 



THE STORT OF THE LOST 
FAIRT BOOK 

T HROUGH all the years of my 
life this has been my Fairy 
Book. All the other Fairy 
books belong to thousands of other peo- 
ple, but this one is mine, and though 
thousands of children may begin now 
to read it, I shall always feel that it be- 
longs to me and that they have only 
borrowed it from me. 

There was something mysterious 
about it. When I was five or six years 
old and went to a tiny school which was 
kept by two daughters of an old clergy- 
man, there one day happened to me a 
most beautiful thing. It appeared that I 
had been a good child throughout all 
[ix] 


THE LOST FAIRT BOOK 
that part of my career presided over by 
Miss Alice and Miss Mary. To my great 
pride Miss Mary and Miss Alice told 
me so, and even added that, as a re- 
ward for my excellent conduct, they in- 
tended to present me with a prize. The 
prize was to be a story book, as I cared 
more for story books than for the thrones 
of Kings and crowns of Queens. Across 
all the years which have passed since 
then I can look back to-day and see the 
little square school-room up-stairs in the 
clergyman’s house, and at a window 
which looked over green fields with 
hawthorn hedges round them, I can 
see the very little girl who leaned 
against the window ledge and quaked 
with joy as she looked at Miss Mary, 
who was telling her this stupendously 
delightful thing. In those days little 
[x] 


THE LOST FAIRY BOOK 
girls only received presents of books 
upon solemn and exalting occasions, 
and this little girl had so few that she 
was obliged to tell to herself — in whis- 
pers — the stories she wanted to hear. 

“ Alice and I went out together and 
bought it, Frances dear,” Miss Mary 
said with a doubtful air, “ but we had 
not time to look at it when we were in 
the shop. And I am afraid it is a very 
silly book. It is all about fairies.” 

The very little girl leaning against 
the window felt her cheeks growing 
red with all sorts of feelings, but prin- 
cipally with guilty joy. A book about 
fairies had not happened to her before, 
and her conscience smote her (being a 
very large conscience for such a little 
girl) for the thrill of delight which ran 
all over her from the toes of her ankle 
[xi] 


THE LOST FAIRY BOOK 
strap shoes to the ends of her hair. To 
be so rejoiced over a silly book all about 
fairies was plainly not conduct worthy 
of a little girl who was receiving a prize 
for meritorious behaviour. 

“ Alice and I thought of sending it 
back to the shop after we found out 
about it,” said Miss Mary (and then the 
little girl almost fell into a small round 
heap of woe upon the floor), “but we 
found we had no time and so decided 
that we would give it to you. It may 
not be quite as silly as it looked. So 
here it is.” 

It was a little green book with gilt 
decorations upon it, and it was called : 

w Granny’s Wonderful Chair,” 

and on the blank page at the beginning 
were written these flattering lines : 
[xii] 


THE LOST FAIRY BOOK 


w To Miss Frances Hodgson, 
w From Mary and Alice Hague, as a reward 
u for politeness and good behaviour.” 

The next thing that I remember is 
that little girl poring over the book in 
corners of her nursery, in nooks in the 
garden, in any quiet place where one 
could sit down on the grass, on stairs, 
on a chair or a footstool. In the hours 
in which she opened the leaves of 
“Granny’s Wonderful Chair” she wan- 
dered into a strange and beautiful coun- 
try which was like no other country 
she had heard or dreamed of before, or 
has had the good fortune to travel into 
at any time since. The first sentence 
she read told her that it belonged to 
“An old-time long ago, when fairies 
were in the world.” This was a joy 
in itself. Other books always spoke of 
[ xiii ] 


THE LOST FAIRY BOOK 
a time when people believed in fairies, 
but this one told of the days when 
fairies were in the world. So one had no 
need to doubt anything or think it was 
only a pretence. In all the stories fair- 
ies were spoken of, not as if they were 
unreal creatures quite different from any 
one else, but as if they were as real as 
birds and butterflies and little children. 
They made part of the crowds which 
went to festivities ; they danced on the 
hilltops in countries they liked; they 
went away when people grew cross and 
their countries dull, and they came back 
to their old places, when every one be- 
came happy and good-tempered and the 
countries were bright again. They went 
to fairs with other people quite com- 
fortably and they sat spinning on silver 
spinning - wheels at cottage firesides 
[ xiv ] 


THE LOST FAIRY BOOK 
when every one was asleep. They 
came and went and were part of the 
populace, and one felt one might meet 
one at any moment. The chief little 
girl in the book — her name was Snow- 
flower — lived “ on the edge of a great 
forest in a little cottage built of peat 
and thatched with reeds. Tall trees 
sheltered it, swallows built in the 
eaves, and daisies grew thick about the 
door.” The words had such a beautiful 
sound when one read them aloud to 
one’s self, and the cottage seemed so 
real, nestling on the edge of the great 
forest, which was so deep — so deep — 
that there could be no world beyond it. 

That was the charm of this country. 
The forests were so deep, the moor- 
lands stretched so far, the hills sloped 
up to the very sky, and one knew they 
[xv] 


THE LOST FAIRY BOOK 
were lost in the red sunset clouds. There 
was no boundary to anywhere. There 
were no places where things ended, 
“Long ago when the Fairies were in 
the world one wandered on, and on, 
and on, until one met a story and stopped 
to live in it. There was one wide heath, 
covered with purple bloom, over which 
two brothers, in search of their lost 
flock, roamed, drawn by a sound of 
music down the hills, as if a thousand 
shepherds were piping from the top. 
“ It led to a broad pasture where violets 
grew thick in the grass and thousands of 
snow-white sheep were feeding, while 
an old man sat in the midst of them and 
played upon a pipe. He wore a long 
coat the colour of holly leaves ; his hair 
hung to his waist and his beard to his 
knees, and both were white as snow.” 
[j xvi ] 


THE LOST FAIRT BOOK 
Through all the years I have lived I 
have somehow felt sure that this great 
lovely plain was somewhere and that 
sometime I shall see it. There was also 
a forest in the west country which is 
real too. It was so thick and old that 
no man knew its extent, and it was be- 
lieved to reach to the end of the world. 
And poor little lonely Prince Fairyfoot 
was led into it by Robin Goodfellow, 
“ along a mossy path among old trees 
wreathed with ivy (he never knew how 
far) until they heard the sound of music 
and came upon a meadow where the 
moon shone bright as day and all the 
flowers of the year, snowdrops, violets, 
primroses and cowslips, bloomed to- 
gether in the grass. And there was a 
crowd of little men and women, some 
clad in russet colour, but far more in 
[ xvii ] 


THE LOST FAIRT BOOK 
green, dancing round a little well as 
clear as crystal.” In another place there 
was also a grove of great rose trees 
filled with moonlight and with thou- 
sands of nightingales singing in the 
branches, and in the midst of that grove 
was “ a clear spring bordered with banks 
of lilies.” 

There never was another country 
where one could wander so far and 
where all the places were so beautiful, 
though sometimes they were in the north 
country, and sometimes in the west 
country, and sometimes in the east. 
And the people who lived in the stories 
of them — Woodwender and Loveleaves 
— the Lords of the White and Grey 
Castles — desolate, sweet - hearted Little 
Prince Fairyfoot watching the sheep 
all day and plaiting rushes and sing- 
[ xviii ] 


THE LOST FAIRY BOOK 
ing to himself — Princess Mayblossom, 
dressed in snow white and wearing a 
wreath of roses on her golden hair, 
her white fawn frisking by her side — 
whether their story happened in the 
far north country, or in the west coun- 
try, or in the east, one loved them all, 
one loved them very much. The clothes 
they wore were like pictures. Lady 
Greensleeves, whose home was in the 
trunk of a great oak tree, “whose like 
has never been seen in grove or forest,” 
wore a gown of russet colour with long 
sleeves as green as the very grass; her 
yellow hair was braided and bound with 
a crimson fillet, and in her right hand 
she carried a holly branch. The very 
things that were eaten in the stories were 
beautiful. When Lady Greensleeves 
gave Loveleaves and Woodwender soft 
[ xix ] 


THE LOST FAIRY BOOK 
green moss to sleep on, she gave them 
also “deer’s milk and cakes of nut- 
flour.” When there came through the 
oaks, to lure them with a spell, a gay 
young hunter about whose neck was 
hung a crystal bugle, he held in his 
hand a huge oaken goblet, carved with 
flowers and leaves and rimmed with 
crystal. Up to the brim it was filled 
with milk on which the rich cream 
floated. This was the world the small 
reader of the book wandered into when 
she began to read the first page, and she 
has never quite left it since. 

I do not know how long she lived 
with the book, reading its stories over 
and over, carrying it about in her hand, 
sleeping with it under her pillow and 
seeking her fortune in the Beautiful 
Country in her sleep. It seemed to her 
[xx] 


THE LOST FAIRY BOOK 
that it was her friend for years. But at 
last came the Mystery. The book was 
gone — quite gone. It did not seem to 
be lost as things usually are. No one 
had seen it for any “last time.” No 
search would find it. Everybody looked, 
everybody asked questions, but there 
was no clue, no trace ; the little book 
had disappeared, not only from the 
nursery, not only from the house, but 
as it seemed, from the very world. 

Then the little girl told herself a 
story which was a sort of comfort to 
her. This was what she used to whis- 
per to herself about it: 

“ It was really a fairy book. The 
fairies put it on the counter of the book 
shop in Manchester for Miss Mary and 
Miss Alice to buy for me. They wanted 
a little girl like me to have it. No 
[ xxi ] 


THE LOST FAIRY BOOK 
doubt they were hiding behind things 
on the shelves in the shop and peeping 
out when Miss Mary asked how much 
it cost. Perhaps they danced all the 
way home with them and were in the 
school-room when it was given to me. 
When Miss Mary thought of sending 
it back to the shop because it was about 
them and she thought them silly, per- 
haps one of them flew upon her shoul- 
der and whispered in her ear and told 
her that they were quite as real as she 
was and were not silly at all. Perhaps 
they have been dancing round me all 
the time I have been reading about 
them, and they have liked me because 
I was so fond of them and knew they 
were really true. But it was their par- 
ticular book, and after I had read all 
the stories so many times they knew 
[ xxii ] 


THE LOST FAIRY BOOK 
some other little girl who needed it, 
and so they just took it away to fairy 
land and made it new again, and then 
carried it to another book shop and 
watched until it was bought for her. 
It was not a shop book — it was a fairy 
book. It was only lent to me.” 

And she always liked to think of the 
coming and going of the Lost Fairy 
Book. 

But she had not lost the Beautiful 
Country. She knew it too well. On 
the wide heath covered with purple 
bloom she could wander whensoever 
she chose ; on the broad pasture carpeted 
with violets, she could sit and watch 
the thousands of snow-white sheep and 
hear the old man playing his pipe ; in 
the grove of great rose trees she could 
lie and listen to the thousands of night- 
[ xxiii ] 


THE LOST FAIRY BOOK 
ingales as they sang, and in the deep, 
deep forests which reached to the end of 
the world, she could lose herself in the 
green shadows and know that the fairies 
were dancing on the velvet moss and 
hanging on the ferns. She never lost 
the Beautiful Country and she never 
will. 

But as she grew older and had many 
things to write and much work to do, 
the stories faded somewhat. She could 
not quite remember what happened to 
the two shepherds when they roamed 
after their wandering flock, the things 
Merrymind did in Dame Dreary’s land 
became rather indistinct, she was not 
really sure of all that occurred when 
Civil the young fisherman was drawn 
down through the water by “ the tallest, 
stateliest ladies he had ever seen,” and 
[ xxiv ] 


THE LOST FAIRY BOOK 
lived with them and their strange peo- 
ple through twelve months feasting in 
the splendid caves beneath the sea. She 
could remember the moorlands and 
the dells where tiny men and women 
danced, attired in russet and green, but 
the details of their doings drifted away 
from her. When she grew into a young 
woman she wanted so much to recall 
them again quite clearly that she made 
up her mind to find a copy of the Lost 
Fairy Book somewhere if it was to be 
found by searching for it. So she used 
to go into book shops in different coun- 
tries and ask if any one had one for sale, 
or if any one knew anything of the ex- 
istence of such a book and could tell 
her where it might be bought. But 
no one ever knew. She inquired in libra- 
ries, she asked people both in England 
[ xxv ] 


THE LOST FAIRY BOOK 
and America, but no one seemed ever to 
have heard of it — it was a Lost Fairy 
Book indeed. But when she was mar- 
ried and had two little boys of her own 
she used to try to call back from her 
nursery days such fragments as she could 
remember of the lovely happenings to 
Fairyfootand Merrymind and the Lords 
of the White and Grey Castles, and she 
would weave them into something com- 
plete enough to tell when stories were 
very much wanted. She told them to 
other children as well as to her own, 
and they were always beloved and every 
one wished he or she could find the 
Lost Fairy Book. But for years and 
years, and years, and years — and also for 
years, and years more than that — no one 
ever did„ 

The ones she remembered most 

[ xxy i ] 


THE LOST FAIRY BOOK 
clearly were the story of Prince Fairy- 
foot and the one about Childe Charity. 
She had always so loved the part in 
which as Childe Charity lay in her 
garret with the moon shining through 
the shutterless window, there came the 
sound of tiny far-off bugles and then 
there entered little men in crimson, with 
torches, and little ladies in rose-coloured 
velvet, with silver lamps, and when they 
had delivered their message from fairy- 
land, “ the dog stretched himself in the 
straw, Childe Charity turned in her sleep, 
and the moon shone in at the win- 
dow/’ 

But in time the fairies did not wish 
their book to be lost any longer ; in fact, 
they intended it to be found, so that 
other children should wander in the 
forests and on the purple heath. So 
[ xxvii ] 


THE LOST FAIRY BOOK 
they invented something as fairies 
always can. This was what they 
invented. 

There was a little girl in Boston who 
had been promised that she should be 
told the story of Prince Fairyfoot. Time 
went so fast and so many things hap- 
pened that after months the story had 
not been told, and the First Owner of 
the Lost Fairy Book had gone away 
from Boston town. And as a promise 
made to a little girl or a little boy is a 
very unbreakable thing, the First Owner 
felt this one lie heavy on her conscience 
and she made a plan to redeem it. She 
gathered together from the shadowy 
places in her mind all she could recall 
of Prince Fairyfoot; to make it com- 
plete she invented new fairies and filled 
in the blank places with new things, 
[ xxviii ] 


THE LOST FAIRY BOOK 
trying all the time to make the story 
feel as much like the old one as possi- 
ble. She wrote it out on note paper, 
made a pretty cover of pale pink and 
pale blue satin ornamented with illumi- 
nated letters, edged and tied it with a 
silver cord, and sent it to the little girl 
as an Easter greeting. Then she felt she 
had kept her promise and was not a dis- 
honourable person any longer. 

This was of course really a thing in- 
vented by the fairies, which is proved by 
the fact that through this very thing 
their book was found again. 

The little girl liked the story very 
much. She was so delighted with it that 
the First Owner, who had rewritten it, 
thought it would be a pleasure to try to 
rewrite the others. This she had not 
time to do more than merely think of 
[ xxix] 


THE LOST FAIRY BOOK 
that year, but some time later, when the 
editor of a certain children’s magazine 
wanted some stories very much, she re- 
membered the Easter greeting again. 
No doubt the fairies sprang upon her 
shoulder and reminded her and told her 
what she must do. What she did was 
to write to the editor and tell her about 
the beloved Lost Fairy Book. “ I have 
not seen it since I was a little girl,” she 
wrote. “No one but myself seems to 
know anything about it, but when I 
tell the stories to children they always 
love them. What do you think of this 
idea ? Suppose I were to try and re- 
write all I can remember, fill in the for- 
gotten places as well as I can, and let you 
publish the series under the title of 
‘ Stories from the Lost Fairy Book. Re- 
told by the Child who read them.’ ” 

[ xxx ] 


THE LOST FAIRT BOOK 
The editor was very much pleased 
with this, and so it was agreed that the 
stories were to be rewritten as soon as 
the First Owner had time. The story of 
Fairyfoot, being already written, was sent 
ahead. It happened, however, that 
time could never be found to write the 
rest. So after a good many months 
Fairyfoot was published. As the editor 
was in England the First Owner’s let- 
ter about the Lost Fairy Book was laid 
away and forgotten and so, by mistake, 
the story was published without the 
title, which explained that it was not a 
new story but an old one told over 
again. This of course was what the 
fairies intended when they made their 
plan for giving their book again to the 
children. The story in the magazine 
was read by some one who really owned 
[ xxxi ] 


THE LOST FAIRY BOOK 
an old copy of the Lost Fairy Book. 
Perhaps it was the very one which had 
disappeared so mysteriously so many 
years ago. I think it was. The lady 
who owned it naturally loved it very 
much and thought it was her special fairy 
book, just as I felt it was mine. When 
she saw Fairyfoot retold in the maga- 
zine with additions and alterations, she 
no doubt felt wronged and robbed. She 
wrote to inquire how it happened that 
her Fairyfoot was given to the public this 
way. The editor of the magazine ex- 
plained to her and told her about the First 
Owner’s letter and the title which 
should have been added and how it was 
forgotten. And so the Lost Fairy Book 
was found and the fairies did what they 
had planned to do. 

The spell which had seemed laid 
[ xxxii i| 


THE LOST FAIRT BOOK 
upon it was broken. Almost immedi- 
ately even I who had so long searched 
for it, found an old copy in a second- 
hand book shop in London. 

Since then I have never travelled in 
any country or across any sea without 
carrying it with me. I like to read it 
to grown-up people who have never 
known anything of wide heaths and 
purple bloom and the piping of shep- 
herds from the tops of hills. They like 
to lose themselves in the Beautiful 
Country and I have never found one 
who really wanted to leave it and come 
back. I never want to come back my- 
self. There are no people in the world 
so lovable as fairies. They have sweeter 
ways than we have and they can do so 
many kinds of things. In a green and 
shadowy part of the park which en- 
[ xxxiii ] 


THE LOST FAIRT BOOK 
closes my home in England there is a 
place called the Fairy Wood because 
there grows in it a strange tree we call 
the Fairy Tree. It is a large and won- 
derful tree which has five trunks grow- 
ing out of one huge root. These five 
trunks form of themselves a place to sit 
in which is almost like a tiny room. It 
is not exactly like the oak in which 
Lady Greensleeves lived but I pretend 
that it is rather like it. And there it is 
I sit when I read to my friends of the 
things related by Granny’s Wonderful 
Chair. We believe that the leaves on 
the trees and bushes in the Fairy Wood 
are like the Merry Leaves that the 
Christmas Cuckoo brought from the tree 
growing by the well at the world’s end. 
If we carry one about with us every- 
where it will make us gay and care-free 
[ xxxiv ] 


THE LOST FAIRY BOOK 
and, what is more, every one who is 
about us will be gay and care-free also, 
which is of course the most delightful 
luck. A Merry Leaf carried in one’s 
pocket will make every one happy and 
everything go well. If you carry one 
you cannot help being adorable and you 
cannot help doing your work well. So 
every one who visits the Fairy Tree car- 
ries one away, and it is quite certain that 
all sorts of beautiful things have hap- 
pened in London since the Lost Fairy 
Book was found and read there. And 
nobody need tell me that the fairies did 
not arrange the whole thing. Why, the 
Fairy Wood itself and the Rose Garden 
close to it are parts of the Beautiful 
Country. And when one sits and writes 
or reads near the sun-dial in the Rose 
Garden, there are robins who comehur- 
[ xxxv ] 


THE LOST FAIRY BOOK 
rying down to one with a little rush of 
wings, and swing on the twigs looking 
at one with little chirps which are not 
to be equalled by the most brilliant con- 
versation. Of course they know the 
fairies intimately and come straight from 
all sorts of places where they have seen 
all sorts of things happen, which makes 
it a great honour to be visited and twit- 
tered at by them. 

I do not know why the Lost Fairy 
Book was lost so long, but I do know it 
was not found again for nothing. And 
now I feel as if I was lending the book, 
which has always been mine, to other 
children who will wander in the forests 
which reach to the end of the world. 

But it is really my Fairy Book. 

Frances Hodgson Burnett. 











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INTRODUCTORY 
































































































INTRODUCTORY 

I N an old time, long ago, when the fairies 
were in the world, there lived a little 
girl so uncommonly fair and pleasant of 
look, that they called her Snowflower. This 
girl was good as well as pretty. No one had 
ever seen her frown or heard her say a cross 
word, and young and old were glad when they 
saw her coming. 

Snowflower had no relation in the world 
but a very old grandmother, called Dame 
Frostyface. People did not like her quite 
so well as her granddaughter, for she was cross 
[ 3 ] 


INTRODUCTORY 

enough at times, but always kind to Snowflow- 
er; and they lived together in a little cottage 
built of peat, and thatched with reeds, on the 
edge of a great forest; tall trees sheltered its 
back from the north wind; the midday sun 
made its front warm and cheerful; swallows 
built in the eaves; daisies grew thick at the 
door; but there were none in all that country 
poorer than Snowflower and her grand- 
mother. A cat and two hens were all their 
live-stock; their bed was dry grass, and the 
only good piece of furniture in the cottage 
was a great arm-chair with wheels on its feet, 
a black velvet cushion, and many curious 
carvings of flowers and fawns on its dark 
oaken back. 

On that chair Dame Frostyface sat spin- 
ning from morning till night to maintain 
herself and her granddaughter, while Snow- 
flower gathered sticks for firing, looked after 
the hens and the cat, and did whatever else 
her grandmother bade her. There was no- 
body in the shire could spin such fine yarn as 
E 4 ] 


INTRODUCTORY 

Dame Frostyface, but she spun very slowly. 
Her wheel was as old as herself, and far the 
more worn; indeed, the wonder was that it 
did not fall to pieces. So the dame’s earn- 
ings were small, and their living meagre. 
Snowflower, however, felt no want of good 
dinners or fine clothes. Every evening, 
when the fire was heaped with the sticks she 
had gathered till it blazed and crackled up 
the cottage chimney, Dame Frostyface set 
aside her wheel and told her a new story. 
Often did the little girl wonder where her 
grandmother had gathered so many stories, 
but she soon learned that. One sunny morn- 
ing, at the time of the swallows’ coming, the 
dame rose up, put on the grey hood and man- 
tle in which she carried her yarn to the fairs, 
and said, “My child, I am going a long jour- 
ney to visit an aunt of mine, who lives far in 
the north country. I cannot take you with 
me, because my aunt is the crossest woman 
alive, and never liked young people: but the 
hens will lay eggs for you; there is barley- 

[5] 


INTRODUCTORY 


meal in the barrel; and, as you have been a 
good girl, I’ll tell you what to do when you 
feel lonely. Lay your head gently down on 
the cushion of the arm-chair, and say, ‘Chair 
of my grandmother, tell me a story.’ It was 
made by a cunning fairy who lived in the 
forest when I was young, and she gave it to 
me because she knew nobody could keep 
what they got hold of better. Remember, 
you must never ask a story more than once in 
a day; and if there be any occasion to travel, 
you have only to seat yourself in it and say, 
‘Chair of my grandmother, take me such a 
way.’ It will carry you wherever you wish; 
but mind to oil the wheels before you set out, 
for I have sat on it these forty years in that 
same corner.” 

Having said this, Dame Frostyface set forth 
to see her aunt in the north country. Snow- 
flower gathered firing and looked after the 
hens and cat as usual. She baked herself a 
cake or two of the barley-meal; but when the 
evening fell the cottage looked lonely. Then 
[ 6 ] 


INTRODUCTORY 

Snowflower remembered her grandmother's 
words, and laying her head gently down she 
said, “Chair of my grandmother, tell me a 
story.” 

Scarce were the words spoken, when a clear 
voice from under the velvet cushion began to 
tell a new and most wonderful tale, which sur- 
prised Snowflower so much that she forgot to 
be frightened. After that the good girl was 
lonely no more. Every morning she baked 
a barley cake, and every evening the chair 
told her a new story; but she could never find 
out who owned the voice, though Snowflower 
showed her gratitude by polishing up the 
oaken back, and dusting the velvet cushion, 
till the chair looked as good as new. The 
swallows came and built in the eaves, the 
daisies grew thicker than ever at the door; 
but great misfortunes fell upon Snowflower. 
Notwithstanding all her care, she forgot to 
clip the hens' wings, and they flew away one 
morning to visit their friends the pheasants, 
who lived far in the forest; the cat followed 

[7] 


INTRODUCTORY 

them to see its relations; the barley-meal was 
eaten up, except a couple of handfuls; and 
Snowflower had often strained her eyes in 
hopes of seeing the grey mantle, but there 
was no appearance of Dame Frostyface. 

“My grandmother stays long,” said Snow- 
flower to herself; “ and by and by there will 
be nothing to eat. If I could get to her, per- 
haps she would advise me what to do; and 
this is a good occasion for travelling.” 

Next day, at sunrise, Snowflower oiled the 
chair’s wheels, baked a cake out of the last of 
the meal, took it in her lap by way of pro- 
vision for the journey, seated herself, and 
said, “Chair of my grandmother, take me 
the way she went.” 

Presently the chair gave a creak, and began 
to move out of the cottage and into the forest 
the very way Dame Frostyface had taken, 
where it rolled along at the rate of a coach- 
and-six. Snowflower was amazed at this 
style of travelling, but the chair never stopped 
nor stayed the whole summer day, till as the 
[ 8 ] 


INTRODUCTORY 

sun was setting they came upon an open space 
where a hundred men were hewing down the 
tall trees with their axes, a hundred more were 
cleaving them for firewood, and twenty wag- 
oners, with horses and wagons, were carry- 
ing the wood away. “Oh, chair of my grand- 
mother, stop!” said Snowflower, for she was 
tired, and also wished to know what this 
might mean. The chair immediately stood 
still, and Snowflower, seeing an old woodcut- 
ter, who looked civil, stepped up to him, and 
said, “Good father, tell me why you cut all 
this wood?” 

“What ignorant country girl are you?” 
replied the man, “not to have heard of the 
great feast which our sovereign, King Win- 
wealth, means to give on the birthday of his 
only daughter, the Princess Greedalind. It 
will last seven days. Everybody will be 
feasted, and this wood is to roast the oxen and 
the sheep, the geese and the turkeys, amongst 
whom there is a great lamentation through- 
out the land.” 


[9] 


INTRODUCTORY 

When Snowflower heard that she could not 
help wishing to see, and perhaps share in, 
such a noble feast, after living so long on 
barley cakes; so, seating herself, she said, 
“Chair of my grandmother, take me quickly 
to the palace of King Winwealth.” 

The words were hardly spoken, when off 
the chair started through the trees and out of 
the forest, to the great amazement of the 
wood-cutters, who, never having seen such a 
sight before, threw down their axes, left their 
wagons, and followed Snowflower to the 
gates of a great and splendid city, fortified 
with strong walls and high towers, and stand- 
ing in the midst of a wide plain covered with 
cornfields, orchards, and villages. 

It was the richest city in all the land; mer- 
chants from every quarter came there to buy 
and sell, and there was a saying that people 
had only to live seven years in it to make 
their fortunes. Rich as they were, however, 
Snowflower thought she had never seen so 
many discontented, covetous faces as looked 


INTRODUCTORY 

out from the great shops, grand houses, and 
fine coaches, when her chair rattled along the 
streets; indeed, the citizens did not stand high 
in repute for either good-nature or honesty; 
but it had not been so when King Winwealth 
was young, and he and his brother, Prince 
Wisewit, governed the land together — Wise- 
wit was a wonderful prince for knowledge and 
prudence. He knew the whole art of govern- 
ment, the tempers of men, and the powers of 
the stars; moreover, he was a great magician, 
and it was said of him that he could never die 
or grow old. In his time there was neither 
discontent nor sickness in the city — strangers 
were hospitably entertained without price or 
questions. Lawsuits there were none, and no 
one locked his door at night. The fairies 
used to come there at May-day and Michael- 
mas, for they were Prince WisewiPs friends — 
all but one, called Fortunetta, a shortsighted 
but very cunning fairy, who hated everybody 
wiser than herself, and the prince especially, 
because she could never deceive him. 


INTRODUCTORT 

There was peace and pleasure for many a 
year in King Winwealth’s city, till one day, 
at midsummer, Prince Wisewit went alone to 
the forest, in search of a strange herb for his 
garden, but he never came back; and though 
the king, with all his guards, searched far and 
near, no news was ever heard of him. When 
his brother was gone, King Winwealth grew 
lonely in his great palace, so he married a cer- 
tain princess, called Wantall, and brought her 
home to be his queen. This princess was 
neither handsome nor agreeable. People 
thought she must have gained the king’s love 
by enchantment, for her whole dowry was a 
desert island, with a huge pit in it that never 
could be filled, and her disposition was so cov- 
etous, that the more she got the greedier she 
grew. In process of time the king and queen 
had an only daughter, who was to be the heir- 
ess of all their dominions. Her name was 
the Princess Greedalind, and the whole city 
were making preparations to celebrate her 
birthday — not that they cared much for the 
[ »] 


INTRODUCTORY 

princess, who was remarkably like her mother 
both in looks and temper, but, being King 
Winwealth’s only daughter, people came 
from far and near to the festival, and among 
them strangers and fairies who had not been 
there since the days of Prince Wisewit. 

There was surprising bustle about the pal- 
ace, a most noble building, so spacious that 
it had a room for every day in the year. All 
the floors were of ebony, and all the ceilings of 
silver, and there was such a supply of golden 
dishes used by the household, that five hun- 
dred armed men kept guard night and day 
lest any of them should be stolen. When 
these guards saw Snowflower and her chair, 
they ran one after another to tell the king, for 
the like had never been seen or heard of in his 
dominions, and the whole court crowded out 
to see the little maiden and her chair that 
came of itself. 

When Snowflower saw the lords and ladies 
in their embroidered robes and splendid 
jewels, she began to feel ashamed of her own 

[ 13 ] 


INTRODUCTORY 

bare feet and linen gown; but at length, tak- 
ing courage, she answered all their questions, 
and told them everything about her wonderful 
chair. The queen and the princess cared 
for nothing that was not gilt. The courtiers 
had learned the same fashion, and all turned 
away in high disdain except the old king, who, 
thinking the chair might amuse him some- 
times when he got out of spirits, allowed Snow- 
flower to stay and feast with the scullion in his 
worst kitchen. The poor little girl was glad 
of any quarters, though nobody made her wel- 
come — even the servants despised her bare 
feet and linen gown. They would give her 
chair no room but in a dusty corner behind the 
back door, where Snowflower was told she 
might sleep at night, and eat up the scraps the 
cook threw away. 

That very day the feast began. It was fine 
to see the multitudes of coaches and people on 
foot and on horseback who crowded to the 
palace and filled every room according to 
their rank. Never had Snowflower seen such 

[ 14] 


INTRODUCTORY 

roasting and boiling. There was wine for 
the lords and spiced ale for the common peo- 
ple, music and dancing of all kinds, and the 
best of gay dresses; but with all the good 
cheer there seemed little merriment and a 
deal of ill-humor in the palace. 

Some of the guests thought they should have 
been feasted in grander rooms; others were 
vexed to see many finer than themselves. All 
the servants were dissatisfied because they 
did not get presents. There was somebody 
caught every hour stealing the cups, and a 
multitude of people were always at the gate 
clamoring for goods and lands which Queen 
Wantall had taken from them. The guards 
continually drove them away, but they came 
back again, and could be heard plainly in the 
highest banquet hall; so it was not wonderful 
that the old king’s spirits got uncommonly low 
that evening after supper. His favorite page, 
who always stood behind him, perceiving this, 
reminded His Majesty of the little girl and her 
chair. 


INTRODUCTORY 

“It is a good thought,” said King Win- 
wealth. “I have not heard a story this many 
a year. Bring the child and the chair in- 
stantly !” 

The favorite page sent a messenger to the 
first kitchen, who told the master-cook, the 
master-cook told the kitchen-maid, the kit- 
chen-maid told the chief scullion, the chief 
scullion told the dust boy, and he told Snow- 
flower to ash her face, rub up her chair, 
and go to the highest banquet hall, for the 
great King Winwealth wished to hear a story. 

Nobody offered to help her, but when 
Snowflower had made herself as smart as she 
could with soap and water, and rubbed 
the chair till it looked as if dust had never 
fallen on it, she seated herself, and said, 
“Chair of my grandmother, take me to the 
highest banquet hall. ,, 

Instantly the chair marched in a grave and 
courtly fashion out of the kitchen, up the 
grand staircase, and into the highest hall. 
The chief lords and ladies of the land were 
[ 16 ] 


INTRODUCTORY 

entertained there, besides many fairies and 
notable people from distant countries. There 
had never been such company in the palace 
since the days of Prince Wisewit; nobody 
wore less than embroidered satin. King 
Winwealth sat on his ivory throne in a robe 
of purple velvet, stiff with flowers of gold; 
the queen sat by his side in a robe of silver 
cloth, clasped with pearls; but the Princess 
Greedalind was finer still, the feast being in 
her honor. She wore a robe of cloth of gold, 
clasped with diamonds; two waiting-ladies in 
white satin stood one on either side, to hold 
her fan and handkerchief; and two pages, in 
gold lace livery, stood behind her chair. With 
all that Princess Greedalind looked ugly and 
spiteful; she and her mother were angry to 
see a bare-footed girl and an old chair allowed 
to enter the banquet hall. 

The supper-tables were still covered with 
golden dishes and the best of good things, but 
no one offered Snowflower a morsel; so, hav- 
ing made a humble courtesy to the king, the 

[ 17 ] 


INTRODUCTORY 

queen, the princess, and the good company, 
most of whom scarcely noticed her, the poor 
little girl sat down upon the carpet, laid her 
head on the velvet cushion, as she used to do 
in the old cottage, and said, “Chair of my 
grandmother, tell me a story.” 

Everybody was astonished, even to the an- 
gry queen and the spiteful princess, when a 
clear voice from under the cushion said, 
“Listen to the story of the Christmas Cuc- 
koo!” 



THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO 






























































r 

i ' 








THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO 

t( NCE upon a time there stood in 

I 1 the midst of a bleak moor in the 
north country, a certain village; 
all its inhabitants were poor, for their fields 
were barren and they had little trade, but the 
poorest of them all were two brothers called 
Scrub and Spare, who followed the cobbler’s 
craft, and had but one stall between them. 
It was a hut built of clay and wattles. The 
door was low and always open, for there was 
no window. The roof did not entirely keep 
out the rain, and the only thing comfortable 
about it was a wide hearth, for which the 
brothers could never find wood enough to 

[ 19 ] 


GRANNT’S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

make a sufficient fire. There they worked in 
most brotherly friendship, though with little 
encouragement. 

“The people of that village were not ex- 
travagant in shoes, and better cobblers than 
Scrub and Spare might be found. Spiteful 
people said there were no shoes so bad that 
they would not be worse for their mending. 
Nevertheless Scrub and Spare managed to 
live between their own trade, a small barley 
field, and a cottage garden, till one unlucky 
day when a new cobbler arrived in the village. 
He had lived in the capital city of the king- 
dom, and, by his own account, cobbled for the 
queen and the princesses. His awls were 
sharp, his lasts were new; he set up a stall in a 
neat cottage with two windows. The vil- 
lagers soon found out that one patch of his 
would wear two of the brothers’. In short, 
all the mending left Scrub and Spare, and 
went to the new cobbler. The season had 
been wet and cold, their barley did not ripen 
well, and the cabbages never half closed in 
[ 20 ] 


THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO 

the garden. So the brothers were poor that 
winter, and when Christmas came they had 
nothing to feast on but a barley loaf, a piece 
of rusty bacon, and some small beer of their 
own brewing. Worse than that, the snow 
was very deep, and they could get no firewood. 
Their hut stood at the end of the village; be- 
yond it spread the bleak moor, now all white 
and silent. But that moor had once been a 
forest; great roots of old trees were still to be 
found in it, loosened from the soil and laid 
bare by winds and rains. One of these, a 
rough, gnarled log, lay hard by their door, 
the half of it above the snow, and Spare said 
to his brother — 

“‘Shall we sit here cold on Christmas while 
the great root lies yonder ? Let us chop it up 
for firewood; the work will make us warm.’ 

“‘No,’ said Scrub; ‘it’s not right to chop 
wood on Christmas; besides that root is too 
hard to be broken with any hatchet/ 

“‘Hard or not, we must have a fire/ replied 
Spare. ‘Come, brother, help me in with it. 


GRAN NT'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

Poor as we are, there is nobody in the village 
will have such a yule log as ours.’ 

“Scrub liked a little grandeur, and, in hope 
of having a fine yule log, both brothers 
strained and strove with all their might till, 
between pulling and pushing, the great old 
root was safe on the hearth, and beginning 
to crackle and blaze with the red embers. In 
high glee, the cobblers sat down to their beer 
and bacon. The door was shut, for there was 
nothing but cold moonlight and snow outside; 
but the hut, strewn with fir boughs and orna- 
mented with holly, looked cheerful as the rud- 
dy blaze flared up and rejoiced their hearts. 

“‘Long life and good fortune to ourselves, 
brother!’ said Spare. ‘I hope you will drink 
that toast, and may we never have a worse 
fire on Christmas — But what is that ?’ 

“Spare set down the drinking horn, and the 
brothers listened astonished, for out of the 
blazing root they heard, ‘Cuckoo! cuckoo!’ as 
plain as ever the spring-bird’s voice came over 
the moor on a May morning. 

[ 22 ] 


THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO 

“‘It is something bad/ said Scrub, terri- 
bly frightened. 

“‘Maybe not/ said Spare; and out of the 
deep hole at the side which the fire had not 
reached, flew a large grey cuckoo, and lit on 
the table before them. Much as the cobblers 
had been surprised they were still more so 
when it said — 

“‘Good gentlemen, what season is this ?’ 

‘“It’s Christmas/ said Spare. 

“‘Then a merry Christmas to you!’ said the 
cuckoo. ‘I went to sleep in the hollow of that 
old root one evening last summer, and never 
woke till the heat of your fire made me think 
it was summer again; but now, since you 
have burned my lodging, let me stay in your 
hut till the spring comes round — I only want 
a hole to sleep in, and when I go on my trav- 
els next summer be assured I will bring you 
some present for your trouble/ 

“‘Stay, and welcome/ said Spare, while 
Scrub sat wondering if it were something bad 
or not; ‘Til make you a good warm hole in 

[ 23 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

the thatch. But you must be hungry after 
that long sleep ? — here is a slice of barley 
bread. Come, help us to keep Christmas !’ 

“The cuckoo ate up the slice, drank water 
from the brown jug, — for he would take no 
beer,— and flew into a snug hole which Spare 
scooped for him in the thatch of the hut. 

“Scrub said he was afraid it wouldn’t be 
lucky; but as it slept on, and the days passed, 
he forgot his fears. So the snow melted, the 
heavy rains came, the cold grew less, the days 
lengthened, and one sunny morning the 
brothers were awoke by the cuckoo shouting 
its own cry to let them know the spring had 
come. 

Now I’m going on my travels/ said the 
bird, ‘over the world to tell men of the spring. 
There is no country where trees bud and 
flowers bloom that I will not cry in before the 
year goes round. Give me another slice of 
barley bread to keep me on my journey, and 
tell me what present I shall bring you at the 
twelvemonth’s end.’ 

[24] 


THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO 

“Scrub would have been angry at his broth- 
er for cutting so large a slice, their store of 
barley-meal being low; but his mind was 
occupied with what present would be most 
prudent to ask. At length a lucky thought 
struck him. 

“‘Good master cuckoo/ said he, ‘if a great 
traveller who sees all the world like you, 
could know of any place where diamonds or 
pearls were to be found, one of a tolerable 
size brought in your beak would help such 
poor men as my brother and I to provide 
something better than barley bread for your 
next entertainment.’ 

“‘I know nothing of diamonds or pearls/ 
said the cuckoo; ‘they are in the hearts of 
rocks and the sands of rivers. My knowl- 
edge is only of that which grows on the earth. 
But there are two trees hard by the well that 
lies at the world’s end — one of them is called 
the golden tree, for its leaves are all of beaten 
gold : every winter they fall into the well with 
a sound like scattered coin, and I know not 

[ 25 ] 


GRANNT’S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

what becomes of them. As for the other it 
is always green like a laurel. Some call it 
the wise, and some the merry tree. Its leaves 
never fall, but they that get one of them keep 
a blithe heart in spite of all misfortunes, and 
can make themselves as merry in a hut as in 
a palace.’ 

“‘ Good master cuckoo, bring me a leaf off 
that tree!’ cried Spare. 

“‘Now, brother, don’t be a fool!’ said 
Scrub; ‘think of the leaves of beaten gold! 
Dear master cuckoo, bring me one of them!’ 

“ Before another word could be spoken, the 
cuckoo had flown out of the open door, and 
was shouting its spring cry over moor and 
meadow. The brothers were poorer than 
ever that year; nobody would send them a 
single shoe to mend. The new cobbler said, 
in scorn, they should come to be his appren- 
tices; and Scrub and Spare would have left 
the village but for their barley field, their cab- 
bage garden, and a certain maid called Fair- 
feather, whom both the cobblers had courted 
[ 26 ] 


THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO 

for seven years without even knowing which 
she meant to favor. 

“Sometimes Fairfeather seemed inclined to 
Scrub, sometimes she smiled on Spare; but 
the brothers never disputed for that. They 
sowed their barley, planted their cabbage, 
and, now that their trade was gone, worked in 
the rich villagers’ fields to make out a scanty 
living. So the seasons came and passed; 
spring, summer, harvest, and winter followed 
each other as they have done from the begin- 
ning. At the end of the latter, Scrub and Spare 
had grown so poor and ragged that Fairfeather 
thought them beneath her notice. Old neigh- 
bors forgot to invite them to wedding feasts 
or merrymaking; and they thought the cuc- 
koo had forgotten them too, when at day- 
break on the first of April they heard a hard 
beak knocking at their door and a voice 
crying — 

“‘Cuckoo! cuckoo! Let me in with my 
presents.’ 

“ Spare ran to open the door and in came 

[ 27 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

the cuckoo, carrying on one side of his bill a 
golden leaf larger than that of any tree in the 
north country; and in the other, one like that 
of the common laurel, only it had a fresher 
green. 

“‘Here,’ it said, giving the gold to Scrub 
and the green to Spare, ‘it is a long carriage 
from the world’s end. Give me a slice of 
barley bread, for I must tell the north coun- 
try that the spring has come.’ 

“Scrub did not grudge the thickness of that 
slice, though it was cut from their last loaf. 
So much gold had never been in the cobbler’s 
hands before, and he could not help exulting 
over his brother. 

“‘See the wisdom of my choice!’ he said, 
holding up the large leaf of gold. ‘As for 
yours, as good might be plucked from any 
hedge. I wonder a sensible bird would carry 
the like so far.’ 

“‘Good master cobbler,’ cried the cuckoo, 
finishing the slice, ‘your conclusions are more 
hasty than courteous. If your brother be 
[ 28 ] 


THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO 

disappointed this time, I go on the same jour- 
ney every year, and for your hospitable en- 
tertainment will think it no trouble to bring 
each of you whichever leaf you desire.’ 

“‘ Darling cuckoo!’ cried Scrub, ‘bring me 
a golden one;’ and Spare, looking up from 
the green leaf on which he gazed as though it 
were a crown-jewel, said — 

“‘Be sure to bring me one from the merry 
tree,’ and away flew the cuckoo. 

“ ‘ This is the F east of all F ools, and it ought 
to be your birthday,’ said Scrub. ‘Did ever 
man fling away such an opportunity of get- 
ting rich ? Much good your merry leaves 
will do in the midst of rags and poverty!’ So 
he went on; but Spare laughed at him, and 
answered with quaint old proverbs concern- 
ing the cares that come with gold, till Scrub, 
at length getting angry, vowed his brother 
was not fit to live with a respectable man; 
and, taking his lasts, his awls, and his golden 
leaf, he left the wattle hut, and went to tell the 
villagers. 


[29] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

“They were astonished at the folly of Spare 
and charmed with Scrub’s good sense, partic- 
ularly when he showed them the golden leaf, 
and told that the cuckoo would bring him 
one every spring. The new cobbler imme- 
diately took him into partnership; the great- 
est people sent him their shoes to mend; 
Fairfeather smiled graciously upon him, and 
in the course of that summer they were mar- 
ried, with a grand wedding feast, at which the 
whole village danced except Spare, who was 
not invited, because the bride could not bear 
his low-mindedness, and his brother thought 
him a disgrace to the family. 

“ Indeed, all who heard the story concluded 
that Spare must be mad, and nobody would 
associate with him but a lame tinker, a beggar- 
boy, and a poor woman reputed to be a witch 
because she was old and ugly. As for Scrub, 
he established himself with Fairfeather in a 
cottage close by that of the new cobbler, and 
quite as fine. There he mended shoes to 
everybody’s satisfaction, had a scarlet coat 

[ 30] 


THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO 

for holidays, and a fat goose for dinner every 
wedding-day. Fairfeather, too, had a crim- 
son gown and fine blue ribands; but neither 
she nor scrub was content, for to buy this 
grandeur the golden leaf had to be broken 
and parted with piece by piece, so the last 
morsel was gone before the cuckoo came with 
another. 

“Spare lived on in the old hut, and worked 
in the cabbage garden. (Scrub had got the 
barley field because he was the eldest.) Ev- 
ery day his coat grew more ragged, and the 
hut more weather-beaten; but people re- 
marked that he never looked sad nor sour; 
and the wonder was, that from the time they 
began to keep his company, the tinker grew 
kinder to the poor ass with which he travelled 
the country, the beggar-boy kept out of mis- 
chief, and the old woman was never cross to 
her cat or angry with the children. 

“Every first of April the cuckoo came tap- 
ping at their doors with the golden leaf to 
Scrub and the green to Spare. Fairfeather 

[ 31 ] 


GRAN NT'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

would have entertained him nobly with wheat- 
en bread and honey, for she had some notion 
of persuading him to bring two gold leaves 
instead of one; but the cuckoo flew away to 
eat barley bread with Spare, saying he was 
not fit company for fine people, and liked the 
old hut where he slept so snugly from Christ- 
mas till spring. 

“Scrub spent the golden leaves and Spare 
kept the merry ones; and I know not how 
many years passed in this manner, when a 
certain great lord, who owned that village, 
came to the neighborhood. His castle stood 
on the moor. It was ancient and strong, with 
high towers and a deep moat. All the coun- 
try, as far as one could see from the highest 
turret, belonged to its lord; but he had not 
been there for twenty years, and would not 
have come then, only he was melancholy. 
The cause of his grief was that he had been 
prime minister at court, and in high favor, till 
somebody told the crown prince that he had 
spoken disrespectfully concerning the turning 

[32] 


THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO 

out of His Royal Highness’s toes, and the king 
that he did not lay on taxes enough; whereon 
the north-country lord was turned out of office, 
and banished to his own estate. There he 
lived for some weeks in very bad temper. 
The servants said nothing would please him, 
and the villagers put on their worst clothes 
lest he should raise their rents; but one day 
in the harvest time his lordship chanced to 
meet Spare gathering watercresses at a 
meadow stream, and fell into talk with the 
cobbler. 

“How it was nobody could tell, but from 
the hour of that discourse the great lord cast 
away his melancholy: he forgot his lost office 
and his court enemies, the king’s taxes and the 
crown-prince’s toes, and went about with a 
noble train, hunting, fishing, and making 
merry in his hall, where all travellers were en- 
tertained, and all poor were welcome. This 
strange story spread through the north coun- 
try, and great company came to the cobbler’s 
hut — rich men who had lost their money, 
[ 33 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

poor men who had lost their friends, beauties 
who had grown old, wits who had gone out of 
fashion, all came to talk with Spare, and, 
whatever their troubles had been, all went 
home merry. The rich gave him presents, 
the poor gave him thanks. Spare’s coat 
ceased to be ragged, he had bacon with his 
cabbage, and the villagers began to think 
there was some sense in him. 

“By this time his fame had reached the 
capital city, and even the court. There were 
a great many discontented people there be- 
sides the king, who had lately fallen into ill- 
humor, because a neighboring princess, with 
seven islands for her dowry, would not marry 
his eldest son. So a royal messenger was 
sent to Spare, with a velvet mantle, a dia- 
mond ring, and a command that he should 
repair to court immediately. 

“‘To-morrow is the first of April,’ said 
Spare, ‘ and I will go with you two hours after 
sunrise.’ 

“The messenger lodged all night at the 

[34] 


THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO 

castle, and the cuckoo came at sunrise with 
the merry leaf. 

“‘Court is a fine place/ he said, when the 
cobbler told him he was going, ‘but I cannot 
come there; they would lay snares and catch 
me; so be careful of the leaves I have brought 
you, and give me a farewell slice of barley 
bread/ 

“Spare was sorry to part with the cuckoo, 
little as he had of his company; but he gave 
him a slice which would have broken Scrub’s 
heart in former times, it was so thick and 
large ; and, having sewed up the leaves in the 
lining of his leathern doublet, he set out with 
the messenger on his way to court.” 

II 

“His coming caused great surprise there. 
Everybody wondered what the king could 
see in such a common looking man; but scarce 
had His Majesty conversed with him half 
an hour, when the princess and her seven 

[ 35 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

islands were forgotten, and orders given that 
a feast for all comers should be spread in the 
banquet hall. The princes of the blood, the 
great lords and ladies, ministers of state, 
and judges of the land, after that discoursed 
with Spare, and the more they talked the 
lighter grew their hearts, so that such 
changes had never been seen at court. The 
lords forgot their spites and the ladies their 
envies, the princes and ministers made friends 
among themselves, and the judges showed no 
favor. 

“As for Spare, he had a chamber assigned 
him in the palace, and a seat at the king’s 
table; one sent him rich robes and another 
costly jewels; but in the midst of all his gran- 
deur he still wore the leathern doublet, which 
the palace servants thought remarkably mean. 
One day the king’s attention being drawn to 
it by the chief page, His Majesty inquired why 
Spare didn’t give it to a beggar ? But the 
cobbler answered — 

“‘High and mighty monarch, this doublet 

[36] 


THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO 

was with me before silk and velvet came — I 
find it easier to wear than the court cut; more- 
over, it serves to keep me humble, by recalling 
the days when it was my holiday garment/ 

“The king thought this a wise speech, and 
commanded that no one should find fault 
with the leathern doublet. So things went, 
till tidings of his brother’s good fortune 
reached Scrub in the moorland cottage on an- 
other first of April, when the cuckoo came 
with two golden leaves, because he had none 
to carry for Spare. 

“‘Think of that!’ said Fairfeather. ‘Here 
we are spending our lives in this humdrum 
place, and Spare making his fortune at court 
with two or three paltry green leaves! What 
would they say to our golden ones ? Let us 
pack up and make our way to the king’s pal- 
ace; I’m sure he will make you a lord and me 
a lady of honour, not to speak of all the fine 
clothes and presents we shall have.’ 

“Scrub thought this excellent reasoning, 
and their packing up began; but it was soon 

[37] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

found that the cottage contained few things 
fit for carrying to court. Fairfeather could 
not think of her wooden bowls, spoons, and 
trenchers being seen there. Scrub consid- 
ered his lasts and awls better left behind, as 
without them, he concluded, no one would 
suspect him of being a cobbler. So, putting 
on their holiday clothes, Fairfeather took her 
looking-glass and Scrub his drinking-horn, 
which happened to have a very thin rim of sil- 
ver, and each carrying a golden leaf carefully 
wrapped up that none might see it till they 
reached the palace, the pair set out in great 
expectation. 

“How far Scrub and Fairfeather journeyed 
I cannot say, but when the sun was high and 
warm at noon, they came into a wood both 
tired and hungry. 

“‘If I had known it was so far to court/ 
said Scrub, ‘I would have brought the end of 
that barley loaf which we left in the cup- 
board/ 

“‘Husband/ said Fairfeather, ‘you should 

[ 38 ] 


THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO 

not have such mean thoughts : how could one 
eat barley bread on the way to a palace ? Let 
us rest ourselves under this tree and look at 
our golden leaves to see if they are safe/ In 
looking at the leaves, and talking of their fine 
prospects, Scrub and Fairfeather did not per- 
ceive that a very thin old woman had slipped 
from behind the tree, with a long staff in her 
hand and a great wallet by her side. 

“‘ Noble lord and lady/ she said, ‘for I 
know ye are such by your voices, though my 
eyes are dim and my hearing none of the 
sharpest, will ye condescend to tell me where 
I may find some water to mix a bottle of mead 
which I carry in my wallet, because it is too 
strong for me V 

“As the old woman spoke, she pulled out a 
large wooden bottle such as shepherds used in 
the ancient times, corked with leaves rolled 
together, and having a small wooden cup 
hanging from its handle. 

“‘Perhaps ye will do me the favor to taste/ 
she said. ‘It is only made of the best honey. 

[ 39] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

I have also cream cheese, and a wheaten loaf 
here, if such honorable persons as you would 
eat the like.’ 

“Scrub and Fairfeather became very con- 
descending after this speech. They were now 
sure that there must be some appearance of 
nobility about them; besides, they were very 
hungry, and having hastily wrapped up the 
golden leaves, they assured the old woman 
they were not at all proud, notwithstanding 
the lands and castles they had left behind 
them in the north country, and would willing- 
ly help to lighten the wallet. The old woman 
could scarcely be persuaded to sit down for 
pure humility; but at length she did, and, 
before the wallet was half empty, Scrub and 
Fairfeather firmly believed that there must 
be something remarkably noble-looking about 
them. This was not entirely owing to her 
ingenious discourse. The old woman was a 
wood-witch; her name was Buttertongue; 
and all of her time was spent in making mead, 
which, being boiled with curious herbs and 

[40] 



Scrub and Fairfeather did not perceive a very thin 
old woman 








































































































































THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO 

spells, had the power of making all who drank 
it fall asleep and dream with their eyes open. 
She had two dwarfs of sons: one was named 
Spy, and the other Pounce. Wherever their 
mother went they were not far behind; and 
whoever tasted her mead was sure to be 
robbed by the dwarfs. 

“Scrub and Fairfeather sat leaning against 
the old tree. The cobbler had a lump of 
cheese in his hand; his wife held fast a hunch 
of bread. Their eyes and mouths were both 
open, but they were dreaming of great gran- 
deur at court, when the old woman raised her 
shrill voice — 

“‘What ho, my sons! come here and carry 
home the harvest.’ 

“No sooner had she spoken than the two lit- 
tle dwarfs darted out of a neighboring thicket. 

“‘Idle boys!’ cried the mother, ‘what have 
ye done to-day to help our living ?’ 

“‘I have been to the city,’ said Spy, ‘and 
could see nothing. These are hard times for 
us — everybody minds their business so con- 

[ 41 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

tentedly since that cobbler came; but here is 
a leathern doublet which his page threw out of 
the window; it’s of no use, but I brought it to 
let you see I was not idle/ And he tossed 
down Spare’s doublet, with the merry leaves 
in it, which he had carried like a bundle on his 
little back. 

“To explain how Spy came by it, I must 
tell you that the forest was not far from the 
great city where Spare lived in such high es- 
teem. All things had gone well with the cob- 
bler, till the king thought that it was quite 
unbecoming to see such a worthy man without 
a servant. His Majesty, therefore, to let all 
men understand his royal favor toward Spare, 
appointed one of his own pages to wait upon 
him. The name of this youth was Tinsel- 
toes, and, though he was the seventh of the 
king’s pages, nobody in all the court had 
grander notions. Nothing could please him 
that had not gold or silver about it, and his 
grandmother feared he would hang himself 
for being appointed page to a cobbler. As 

[ 42 ] 


. THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO 

for Spare, if anything could have troubled 
him, this token of His Majesty’s kindness 
would have done it. 

“The honest man had been so used to serve 
himself that the page was always in the way, 
but his merry leaves came to his assistance; 
and, to the great surprise of his grandmother, 
Tinseltoes took wonderfully to the new ser- 
vice. Some said it was because Spare gave 
him nothing to do but play at bowls all day on 
the palace-green. Yet one thing grieved the 
heart of Tinseltoes, and that was his master’s 
leathern doublet; but for it he was persuaded 
people would never remember that Spare had 
been a cobbler, and the page took a deal of 
pains to let him see how unfashionable it was 
at court; but Spare answered Tinseltoes as he 
had done the king, and at last, finding nothing 
better would do, the page got up one fine 
morning earlier than his master, and tossed 
the leathern doublet out of the back window 
into a certain lane, where Spy found it and 
brought it to his mother. 

[43 ] 


GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

“‘That nasty thing!’ said the old woman; 
‘where is the good in it ?’ 

“ By this time Pounce had taken everything 
of value from Scrub and Fairfeather — the 
looking-glass, the silver rimmed horn, the hus- 
band’s scarlet coat, the wife’s gay mantle and, 
above all, the golden leaves, which so rejoiced 
old Buttertongue and her sons, that they 
threw the leathern doublet over the sleeping 
cobbler for a jest, and went off to their hut in 
the heart of the forest. 

“The sun was going down when Scrub and 
Fairfeather awoke from dreaming that they 
had been made a lord and a lady, and sat 
clothed in silk and velvet, feasting with the 
king in his palace hall. It was a great dis- 
appointment to find their golden leaves and 
all their best things gone. Scrub tore his 
hair, and vowed to take the old woman’s life, 
while Fairfeather lamented sore; but Scrub 
feeling cold for want of his coat, put on the 
leathern doublet, without asking or caring 
whence it came. 


[44] 


THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO 

“ Scarcely was it buttoned on when a change 
came over him; he addressed such merry dis- 
course to Fairfeather, that, instead of lamen- 
tations, she made the wood ring with laugh- 
ter. Both busied themselves in getting up a 
hut of boughs, in which Scrub kindled a fire 
with a flint of steel, which, together with his 
pipe, he had brought unknown to Fairfeather, 
who had told him the like was never heard 
of at court. Then they found a pheasant’s 
nest at the root of an old oak, made a meal of 
roasted eggs, and went to sleep on a heap of 
long green grass which they had gathered, 
with nightingales singing all night long in 
the old trees above them. So it happened 
that Scrub and Fairfeather stayed day after 
day in the forest, making their hut larger and 
more comfortable against the winter, living 
on wild birds’ eggs and berries, and never 
thinking of their lost golden leaves, or their 
journey to court. 

“In the meantime Spare had got up and 
missed his doublet. Tinseltoes, of course, 
[ 45 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

said he knew nothing about it. The whole 
palace was searched, and every servant ques- 
tioned, till all the court wondered why such a 
fuss was made about an old leathern doublet. 
That very day things came back to their old 
fashion. Quarrels began among the lords 
and jealousies among the ladies. The king 
said his subjects did not pay him half enough 
taxes, the queen wanted more jewels, the ser- 
vants took to their old bickerings and got up 
some new ones. Spare found himself getting 
wonderfully dull, and very much out of place; 
nobles began to ask what business a cobbler 
had at the king’s table, and His Majesty or- 
dered the palace chronicles searched for a 
precedent. The cobbler was too wise to tell 
all he had lost with that doublet, but, being 
by this time somewhat familiar with court 
customs, he proclaimed a reward of fifty 
golden pieces to any who would bring him 
news concerning it. 

“ Scarcely was this made known in the city, 
when the gates and outer courts of the palace 

[46] 


THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO 

were filled by men, women, and children, 
some bringing leathern doublets of every cut 
and color; some with tales of what they had 
heard and seen in their walks about the neigh- 
borhood; and so much news concerning all 
sorts of great people came out of these stories, 
that lords and ladies ran to the king with com- 
plaints of Spare as a speaker of slander; and 
His Majesty, being now satisfied that there 
was no example in all the palace records of 
such a retainer, issued a decree banishing the 
cobbler forever from court, and confiscating 
all his goods in favor of Tinseltoes. 

“That royal edict was scarcely published 
before the page was in full possession of his 
rich chamber, his costly garments, and all the 
presents the courtiers had given him; while 
Spare, having no longer the fifty pieces of 
gold to give, was glad to make his escape out 
of the back window, for fear of the nobles, 
who vowed to be revenged on him, and the 
crowd, who were prepared to stone him for 
cheating them about his doublet. 

[47 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

“The window from which Spare let himself 
down with a strong rope was that from which 
Tinseltoes had tossed the doublet, and as the 
cobbler came down late in the twilight, a poor 
woodman, with a heavy load of faggots, 
stopped and stared at him in great astonish- 
ment. 

“‘What’s the matter, friend?’ said Spare. 
‘Did you never see a man coming down from 
a back window before ?’ 

“‘Why,’ said the woodman, ‘the last morn- 
ing I passed here a leathern doublet came out 
of that very window, and I’ll be bound you 
are the owner of it.’ 

“‘That I am, friend,’ said the cobbler. 
‘Can you tell me which way that doublet 
went ?’ 

“‘As I walked on,’ said the woodman, ‘a 
dwarf, called Spy, bundled it up and ran off 
to his mother in the forest.’ 

“‘Honest friend,’ said Spare, taking off the 
last of his fine clothes (a grass-green mantle 
edged with gold), ‘I’ll give you this if you will 


THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO 

follow the dwarf, and bring me back my 
doublet.’ 

“‘It would not be good to carry fagots in,’ 
said the woodman. ‘But if you want back 
your doublet, the road to the forest lies at the 
end of this lane,’ and he trudged away. 

“Determined to find his doublet, and sure 
that neither crowd nor courtiers could catch 
him in the forest, Spare went on his way, and 
was soon among the tall trees; but neither 
hut nor dwarf could he see. Moreover, the 
night came on; the wood was dark and tan- 
gled, but here and there the moon shone 
through its alleys, the great owls flitted about, 
and the nightingales sang. So he went on, 
hoping to find some place of shelter. At last, 
the red light of a fire, gleaming through a 
thicket, led him to the door of a low hut. It 
stood half open, as if there was nothing to 
fear, and within he saw his brother Scrub 
snoring loudly on a bed of grass, at the foot 
of which lay his own leathern doublet; while 
Fairfeather, in a kirtle made of plaited 
[ 49 ] 


GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

rushes, sat roasting pheasants’ eggs by the 
fire. 

“‘Good evening, mistress,’ said Spare, step- 
ping in. 

“The blaze shone on him, but so changed 
was her brother-in-law with his court life, 
that Fairfeather did not know him, and she 
answered far more courteously than was her 
wont. 

“‘Good evening, master. Whence come 
ye so late ? But speak low, for my good man 
has sorely tired himself cleaving wood, and is 
taking a sleep, as you see, before supper.’ 

“‘A good rest to him,’ said Spare, perceiv- 
ing he was not known. ‘I come from the 
court for a day’s hunting, and have lost my 
way in the forest.’ 

“‘Sit down and have a share of our supper,’ 
said Fairfeather, ‘I will put some more eggs 
in the ashes, and tell me the news of court 
— I used to think of it long ago when I was 
young and foolish.’ 

“‘Did you never go there?’ said the cob- 

[50] 


THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO 

bier. ‘So fair a dame as you would make the 
ladies marvel.’ 

“‘You are pleased to flatter,’ said Fair- 
feather; ‘but my husband has a brother there, 
and we left our moorland village to try our 
fortune also. An old woman enticed us with 
fair words and strong drink at the entrance of 
this forest, where we fell asleep and dreamt of 
great things; but when we awoke, everything 
had been robbed from us — my looking-glass, 
my scarlet cloak, my husband’s Sunday coat; 
and, in place of all, the robbers left him that 
old leathern doublet, which he has worn ever 
since, and never was so merry in all his life, 
though we live in this poor hut.’ 

“‘It is a shabby doublet, that,’ said Spare, 
taking up the garment, and seeing that it was 
his own, for the merry leaves were still sewed 
in its lining. ‘It would be good for hunting in, 
however — your husband would be glad to 
part with it, I daresay, in exchange for this 
handsome cloak;’ and he pulled off the green 
mantle and buttoned on the doublet, much to 

[ 51 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 
Fairfeather’s delight, who ran and shook 
Scrub, crying — 

“Husband! husband! rise and see what a 
good bargain I have made.’ 

“Scrub gave one closing snore, and mut- 
tered something about the root being hard; 
but he rubbed his eyes, gazed up at his 
brother and said — 

“‘Spare, is that really you ? How did you 
like the court, and have you made your for- 
tune ?’ 

“‘That I have, brother,’ said Spare, ‘in 
getting back my own good leathern doublet. 
Come, let us eat eggs and rest ourselves here 
this night. In the morning we will return to 
our own old hut, at the end of the moorland 
village, where the Christmas cuckoo will come 
and bring us leaves.’ 

“Scrub and Fairfeather agreed. So in the 
morning they all returned, and found the old 
hut little the worse for wear and weather. 
The neighbors came about them to ask the 
news of court, and see if they had made their 

[ 52 ] 


THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO 

fortune. Everybody was astonished to find 
the three poorer than ever, but somehow they 
liked to go back to the hut. Spare brought 
out the lasts and awls he had hidden in a 
corner; Scrub and he began their old trade, 
and the whole north country found out that 
there never were such cobblers. 

“They mended the shoes of lords and 
ladies as well as the common people; every- 
body was satisfied. Their custom increased 
from day to day, and all that were disappoint- 
ed, discontented, or unlucky came to the hut 
as in old times, before Spare went to court. 

“The rich brought them presents, the poor 
did them service. The hut itself changed, no 
one knew how. Flowering honeysuckle grew 
over its roof; red and white roses grew thick 
about its door. Moreover, the Christmas 
Cuckoo always came on the first of April, 
bringing three leaves of the merry tree — for 
Scrub and Fairfeather would have no more 
golden ones. So it was with them when I 
last heard the news of the north country.” 

[ 53 ] 


GRANNT’S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

“What a summer-house that hut would 
make for me, mamma!” said the Princess 
Greedalind. 

“We must have it brought here bodily,” 
said Queen Wantall; but the chair was silent, 
and a lady and two noble squires, clad in rus- 
set-colored satin and yellow buskins, the like 
of which had never been seen at that court, 
rose up and said — 

“That’s our story.” 

“I have not heard such a tale,” said King 
Winwealth, “since my brother Wisewit went 
from me and was lost in the forest. Redheels, 
the seventh of my pages, go and bring this 
little maid a pair of scarlet shoes with golden 
buckles.” 

The seventh page immediately brought 
from the royal store a pair of scarlet satin 
shoes with buckles of gold. Snowflower had 
never had seen the like before, and, joyfully 
thanking the king, she dropped a courtesy, 
seated herself, and said, “Chair of my grand- 
mother, take me to the worst kitchen.” Im- 

[54] 


THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO 

mediately the chair marched away as it came, 
to the admiration of that noble company. 

The little girl was allowed to sleep on some 
straw at the kitchen fire that night. Next 
day they gave her ale with the scraps the cook 
threw away. The feast went on with great 
music and splendour, and the people clam- 
oured without; but in the evening King Win- 
wealth again fell into low spirits, and the 
royal command was told to Snowflower by 
the chief scullion, that she and her chair 
should go to the highest banquet hall, for His 
Majesty wished to hear another story. 

When Snowflower had washed her face, and 
dusted her chair, she went up seated as before, 
only that she had on the scarlet shoes, Queen 
Wantall and her daughter looked more spiteful 
than ever, but some of the company graciously 
noticed Snowflower’ s courtesy, and were 
pleased when she laid down her head saying, 
“ Chair of my grandmother, tell me a story. ,, 

“Listen,” said a voice from under the 
cushion, “to the story of Lady Greensleeves.” 

[55 J 


THE LORDS OF THE WHITE 
AND GREY CASTLES 




THE LORDS OF THE WHITE AND 
GREY CASTLES 

O NCE upon a time there lived two 
noble lords in the east country. 
Their lands lay between a broad 
river and an old oak forest, whose size was 
so great that no man knew it. In the midst 
of his land each lord had a stately castle; one 
was built of the white freestone, the other of 
the grey granite. So the one was called Lord 
of the White Castle, and the other Lord of the 
Grey 

“ There were no lords like them in all the 
east country for nobleness and bounty. Their 
tenants lived in peace and plenty; all stran- 
gers were hospitably entertained at their 

[ 57] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

castles; and every autumn they sent men with 
axes into the forests to hew down the great 
trees, and chop them up into firewood for 
the poor. Neither hedge nor ditch divided 
their lands, but these lords never disputed. 
They had been friends from their youth. 
Their ladies had died long ago, but the lord 
of the Grey Castle had a little son, and the 
Lord of the White a little daughter; and 
when they feasted in each other’s halls it 
was their custom to say, ‘ When our children 
grow up they will marry, and have our 
castles and our lands, and keep our friendship 
in memory.’ 

“So the lords and their little children and 
tenants lived happily, till one Michaelmas 
night, as they were all feasting in the hall of 
the White Castle, there came a traveller to the 
gate, who was welcomed and feasted as usual. 
He had seen many strange sights and coun- 
tries, and, like most people, he liked to tell 
his travels. The lords were delighted with 
his tales as they sat round the fire drinking 

[58] 


WHITE AND GRET CASTLES 
wine after supper, and at length the Lord of 
the White Castle, who was very curious, 
said — 

“‘Good stranger, what was the greatest 
wonder you ever saw in all your travels ?’ 

“‘The most wonderful sight that ever I saw,’ 
replied the traveller, ‘was at the end of yonder 
forest, where in an ancient wooden house 
there sits an old woman weaving her own hair 
into grey cloth on an old crazy loom. When 
she wants more yarn she cuts off her own grey 
hair, and it grows so quickly that though I 
saw it cut in the morning, it was out of the 
door before noon. She told me it was her 
purpose to sell the cloth, but none of all who 
came that way had yet bought any, she asked 
so great a price; and, only the way is so long 
and dangerous through that wide forest full 
of boars and wolves, some rich lord like you 
might buy it for a mantle/ 

“All who heard this story were astonished; 
but when the traveller had gone on his way, 
the Lord of the White Castle could neither 
[ 59 ] 


GRANNT’S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

eat nor sleep for wishing to see the old woman 
that wove her own hair. At length he made 
up his mind to explore the forest in search of 
her ancient house, and told the Lord of the 
Grey court his intention. Being a prudent 
man, this lord replied that travellers’ tales 
were not always to be trusted, and earnestly 
advised him against undertaking such a long 
and dangerous journey, for few that went far 
into the forest ever returned. However, when 
the curious lord would go in spite of all, he 
vowed to bear him company for friendship’s 
sake, and they agreed to set out privately, lest 
the other lords of the land might laugh at 
them. The Lord of the White Castle had a 
steward who had served him many years, and 
his name was Reckoning Robin. To him he 
said — 

“‘I am going on a long journey with my 
friend. Be careful of my goods, deal justly 
with my tenants and, above all things, be kind 
to my little daughter Loveleaves till my re- 
turn;’ and the steward answered — 

t 60] 


WHITE AND GREY CASTLES 

“‘Be sure, my lord, I will/ 

“The Lord of the Grey Castle also had a 
steward who had served him many years, and 
his name was Wary Will. To him he said — 
“‘I am going on a journey with my friend. 
Be careful of my goods, deal justly with my 
tenants and, above all things, be kind to my 
little son Woodwender till my return/ and his 
steward answered him — 

“ * Be sure, my lord, I will/ 

“So these lords kissed their children while 
they slept, and set out each with his staff and 
mantle before sunrise through the old oak 
forest. The children missed their fathers, 
the tenants missed their lords. None but the 
stewards could tell what had become of them; 
but seven months wore away, and they did 
not come back. The lords had thought their 
stewards faithful, because they served so well 
under their eyes; but, instead of that, both 
were proud and crafty, and, thinking some 
evil had happened to their masters, they set 
themselves to be lords in their room. 

[ 61 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

“Reckoning Robin had a son called Hard- 
hold, and Wary Will a daughter called Dry- 
penny. There was not a sulkier girl or boy 
in the country, but their fathers resolved to 
make a young lord and lady of them; so they 
took the silk clothes which Woodwender and 
Loveleaves used to wear, to dress them, cloth- 
ing the lords’ children in frieze and canvas. 
Their garden flowers and ivory toys were 
given to Hardhold and Drypenny; and at 
last the stewards’ children sat at the chief 
tables and slept in the best chambers, while 
Woodwender and Loveleaves were sent to 
herd the swine and sleep on straw in the 
granary. 

“The poor children had no one to take 
their part. Every morning at sunrise they 
were sent out — each with a barley loaf and a 
bottle of sour milk, which was to serve them 
for breakfast, dinner, and supper — to watch 
a great herd of swine on a wide unfenced pas- 
ture hard by the forest. The grass was scan- 
ty, and the swine were continually straying 
[ 62] 


WHITE AND GREY CASTLES 
into the wood in search of acorns. The chil- 
dren knew that if they were lost the wicked 
stewards would punish them, and, between 
gathering and keeping their herds in order, 
they were readier to sleep on the granary 
straw at night than ever they had been within 
their own silken curtains. Still Woodwender 
and Loveleaves helped and comforted each 
other, saying their fathers would come back, 
or God would send them some friends: so, in 
spite of swine-herding and hard living, they 
looked blithe and handsome as ever; while 
Hardhold and Drypenny grew crosser and 
uglier every day, notwithstanding their fine 
clothes and the best of all things. 

“The crafty stewards did not like this. 
They thought their children ought to look 
genteel, and Woodwender and Loveleaves 
like young swineherds; so they sent them to 
a wilder pasture, still nearer the forest, and 
gave them two great black hogs, more unruly 
than all the rest, to keep. One of these hogs 
belonged to Hardhold, and the other to Dry- 

[63] 


GRANNT’S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

penny. Every evening when they came 
home the stewards’ children used to come 
down and feed them, and it was their delight 
to reckon up what price they would bring 
when properly fattened. 

“One sultry day, about midsummer, Wood- 
wender and Loveleaves sat down in the shad- 
ow of a mossy rock; the swine grazed about 
them more quietly than usual, and they plait- 
ed rushes and talked to each other, till, as the 
sun was sloping down the sky, Woodwender 
saw that the two great hogs were missing. 
Thinking they must have gone to the forest, 
the poor children ran to search for them. 
They heard the thrush singing and the wood- 
doves calling; they saw the squirrels leaping 
from bough to bough, and the great deer 
bounding by; but, though they searched for 
hours, no trace of the favourite hogs could 
be seen. Loveleaves and Woodwender durst 
not go home without them. Deeper and 
deeper they ran into the forest, searching 
and calling, but all in vain; and when the 


WHITE AND GREY CASTLES 

woods began to darken with the fall of even- 
ing, the children feared they had lost their 
way. 

“It was known that they never feared the 
forest, nor all the boars and wolves that were 
in it; but being weary they wished for some 
place of shelter, and took a green path through 
the trees, thinking it might lead to the dwell- 
ing of some hermit or forester. A fairer way 
Woodwender and Loveleaves had never 
walked. The grass was soft and mossy, a 
hedge of wild roses and honeysuckle grew on 
either side, and the red light of sunset streamed 
through the tall trees above. On they went, 
and it led them straight to a great open dell, 
covered with the loveliest flowers, bordered 
with banks of wild strawberries, and all over- 
shadowed by one enormous oak, whose like 
had never been seen in grove or forest. Its 
branches were as large as full grown trees. 
Its trunk was wider than a country church, 
and its height like that of a castle. There 
were mossy seats at its great root, and, when 

[65 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

the tired children had gathered as many 
strawberries as they cared for, they sat down 
on one, hard by a small spring that bubbled 
up as clear as crystal. The huge oak was 
covered with thick ivy, in which thousands 
of birds had their nests. Woodwender and 
Loveleaves watched them flying home from all 
parts of the forest, and at last they saw a lady 
coming by the same path which led them to 
the dell. She wore a gown of russet color; 
her yellow hair was braided and bound with 
a crimson fillet. In her right hand she car- 
ried a holly branch; but the most remarkable 
part of her attire was a pair of long sleeves, as 
green as the very grass. 

“‘Who are you ?’ she said, ‘that sit so late 
beside my well ?’ And the children told her 
their story, how they had lost the hogs, then 
their way, and were afraid to go home to the 
wicked stewards. 

“‘Well/ said the lady, ‘ye are the fairest 
swineherds that ever came this way. Choose 
whether ye will go home and keep hogs for 
[ 66 ] 



The lady slipped her holly branch through the ivy 

































» 











































WHITE AND GRET CASTLES 

Hardhold and Drypenny, or live in the free 
forest with me.’ 

“‘We will stay with you/ said the chil- 
dren, ‘ for we like not keeping swine. Besides 
our fathers went through this forest, and we 
may meet them some day coming home/ 
“While they spoke, the lady slipped her 
holly branch through the ivy, as if it had been 
a key — presently a door opened in the oak, 
and there was a fair house. The windows 
were of rock crystal, but they could not be 
seen from without. The walls and floor were 
covered with thick, green moss, as soft as vel- 
vet. There were low seats and a round table, 
vessels of carved wood, a hearth inlaid with 
curious stones, an oven, and a store chamber 
for provisions against the winter. When they 
stepped in, the lady said — 

“‘A hundred years have I lived here, and 
my name is Lady Greensleeves. No friend 
or servant have I had except my dwarf Cor- 
ner, who comes to me at the end of harvest 
with his handmill, his pannier, and his axe: 

[ 67] 


GRANNT’S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

with these he grinds the nuts, and gathers the 
berries, and cleaves the firewood, and blithely 
we live all the winter. But Corner loves the 
frost and fears the sun, and when the topmost 
boughs begin to bud he returns to his country 
far in the north, so I am lonely in the summer 
time/ 

“By this discourse the children saw how 
welcome they were. Lady Greensleeves gave 
them deer’s milk and cakes of nut-flour, and 
soft, green moss to sleep on; and they forgot 
all their troubles, the wicked stewards, and 
the straying swine. Early in the morning a 
troop of does came to be milked, fairies 
brought flowers, and birds brought berries, to 
show Lady Greensleeves what had bloomed 
and ripened. She taught the children to make 
cheese of the does’ milk, and wine of the wood- 
berries. She showed them the stores of honey 
which wild bees had made and left in hollow 
trees, the rarest plants of the forest, and the 
herbs that made all its creatures tame. 

“All that summer Woodwender and Love- 

[ 68 ] 


WHITE AND GREY CASTLES 

leaves lived with her in the great oak tree, 
free from toil and care; and the children 
would have been happy, but they could hear 
no tidings of their fathers. At last the leaves 
began to fade and the flowers to fall; Lady 
Greensleeves said that Corner was coming; 
and one moonlight night she heaped sticks on 
the fire, and set her door open, when Wood- 
wender and Loveleaves were going to sleep, 
saying she expected some old friends to tell 
her the news of the forest. 

“Loveleaves was not quite as curious as her 
father, the Lord of the White Castle; but she 
kept awake to see what would happen, and 
terribly frightened the little girl was when in 
walked a great brown bear. 

“‘Good evening, lady,’ said the bear. 

“‘Good evening, bear/ said Lady Green- 
sleeves. ‘What is the news in your neighbor- 
hood V 

“‘Not much/ said the bear; ‘only the fawns 
are growing very cunning — one can’t catch 
above three in a day.’ 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

“‘That’s bad news/ said Lady Green- 
sleeves; and immediately in walked a great 
wild cat. 

“ ‘ Good evening, lady/ said the cat. 

“‘Good evening, cat/ said Lady Green- 
sleeves. ‘What is the news in your neigh- 
borhood ?’ 

“‘Not much/ said the cat; ‘only the birds 
are growing very plentiful — it is not worth 
one’s while to catch them.’ 

“‘That’s good news/ said Lady Green- 
sleeves; and in flew a great black raven. 

“‘Good evening, lady/ said the raven. 

‘“Good evening, raven/ said Lady Green- 
sleeves. ‘What is the news in your neigh- 
borhood ?’ 

“‘Not much/ said the raven; ‘only in a 
hundred years or so we shall be very genteel 
and private — the trees will be so thick.’ 

“‘How is that ?’ said Lady Greensleeves. 

“‘Oh/ said the raven, ‘have you not heard 
how the king of the forest fairies cast a spell 
on two noble lords, who were travelling 

[ 70] 


WHITE AND GRET CASTLES 

through his dominions to see the old woman 
that weaves her own hair ? They had thinned 
his oaks every year, cutting firewood for the 
poor; so the king met them in the likeness of 
a hunter, and asked them to drink out of his 
oaken goblet, because the day was warm; 
and when the two lords drank, they forgot 
their lands and their tenants, their castles 
and their children, and minded nothing in all 
this world but the planting of acorns, which 
they do day and night, by the power of the 
spell, in the heart of the forest, and will never 
cease till some one makes them pause in their 
work before the sun sets, and then the spell 
will be broken.’ 

“‘Ah!’ said Lady Greensleeves, ‘he is a 
great prince, that king of the forest fairies; 
and there is worse work in the world than 
planting acorns.’ 

“Soon after, the bear, the cat, and the raven 
bade Lady Greensleeves good-night. She 
closed the door, put out the light, and went to 
sleep on the soft moss as usual. 

[ 71 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

“In the morning Loveleaves told Wood- 
wender what she had heard, and they went to 
Lady Greensleeves where she milked the does, 
and said — 

“‘We heard what the raven told last 
night, and we know the two lords are our 
fathers: tell us how the spell may be brok- 
en!’ 

“‘I fear the king of the forest fairies,’ said 
Lady Greensleeves , 4 because I live here alone, 
and have no friend but my dwarf Corner; but 
I will tell you what you may do. At the end 
of the path which leads from this dell turn your 
faces to the north, and you will find a narrow 
way sprinkled over with black feathers — keep 
that path, no matter how it /winds, and it will 
lead you straight to the ravens’ neighborhood, 
where you will find your fathers planting 
acorns under the forest trees. Watch till the 
sun is near setting, and tell them the most 
wonderful things you know to make them 
forget their work; but be sure to tell nothing 
but truth, and drink nothing but running 

[ 72 ] 


WHITE AND GREY CASTLES 

water, or you will fall into the power of the 
fairy king.’ 

“The children thanked her for this good 
counsel. She packed up cake and cheese for 
them in a bag of woven grass, and they soon 
found the narrow way sprinkled over with 
black feathers. It was very long, and wound 
through the thick trees in so many circles, 
that the children were often weary, and sat 
down to rest. When the night came, they 
found a mossy hollow in the trunk of an old 
tree, where they laid themselves down, and 
slept all the summer night — for Woodwender 
and Loveleaves never feared the forest. So 
they went, eating their cakes and cheese 
when they were hungry, drinking from the 
running stream, and sleeping in the hollow 
trees, till on the evening of the seventh day 
they came into the ravens’ neighborhood. 
The tall trees were laden with nests and black 
with ravens. There was nothing to be heard 
but continual cawing; and, in a great opening 
where the oaks grew thinnest, the children 

[ 73 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

saw their own fathers busy planting acorns. 
Each lord had on the velvet mantle in which 
he left the castle, but it was worn to rags with 
rough work in the forest. Their hair and 
beards had grown long; their hands were 
soiled with earth; each had an old wooden 
spade, and on all sides lay heaps of acorns. 
The children called them by their names, and 
ran to kiss them, each saying, ‘Dear father, 
come back to your castle and your people!’ 
but the lords replied — 

“‘We know of no castles and no people. 
There is nothing in all this world but oak 
trees and acorns.’ 

“Woodwender and Loveleaves told them 
of all their former state in vain — nothing 
would make them pause for a minute; so the 
poor children first sat down and cried, and 
then slept on the cold grass, for the sun set, 
and the lords worked on. When they awoke 
it was broad day. Woodwender cheered up 
his sister, saying, ‘We are hungry, and there 
are still two cakes in the bag; let us share one 


WHITE AND GRET CASTLES 

of them. Who knows but something may 
happen ?’ 

“So they divided the cakes and ran to the 
lords, saying, ‘Dear fathers, eat with us;’ but 
the lords said — 

“‘There is no use for meat or drink. Let 
us plant our acorns.’ 

“Loveleaves and Woodwender sat down 
and ate the cake in great sorrow. When 
they had finished, both went to a stream 
hard by, and began to drink the clear water 
with a large acorn shell; and as they drank 
there came through the oaks a gay young 
hunter. His mantle was green as the grass; 
about his neck there hung a crystal bugle, and 
in his hand he carried a huge oaken goblet, 
carved with flowers and leaves, and rimmed 
with crystal. Up to the brim it was filled with 
milk, on which the rich cream floated; and as 
the hunter came near, he said, ‘Fair children, 
leave that muddy water, and come and drink 
with me.’ But Woodwender and Loveleaves 
answered — 

[ 75 1 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

“‘Thanks, good hunter; but we have prom- 
ised to drink nothing but running water.’ 
Still the hunter came nearer with his goblet, 
saying — 

“‘The water is foul; it may do for swine- 
herds and wood-cutters, but not for such fair 
children as you. Tell me, are you not the 
children of mighty kings ? Were you not 
reared in palaces?’ But the boy and girl 
answered him — 

“‘No; we were reared in castles, and are 
the children of yonder lords: tell us how the 
spell that is upon them may be broken!’ And 
immediately the hunter turned from them 
with an angry look, poured out the milk on 
the ground, and went away with his empty 
goblet. 

“Loveleaves and Woodwender were sorry 
to see the rich cream spilled, but they remem- 
bered Lady Greensleeves’ warning; and see- 
ing they could do no better, each got a with- 
ered branch and began to help the lords, 
scratching up the ground with the sharp end, 


WHITE AND GRET CASTLES 

and planting acorns. But their fathers took 
no notice of them, nor all that they could say; 
and when the sun grew warm at noon, they 
went again to drink at the running stream. 
Then there came through the oaks another 
hunter, older than the first, and clothed in 
yellow: about his neck there hung a silver 
bugle, and in his hand he carried an oaken 
goblet, carved with leaves and fruit, rimmed 
with silver, and filled with mead to the brim. 
This hunter also asked them to drink, told 
them the stream was full of frogs, and asked 
them if they were not a young prince and 
princess dwelling in the woods for their pleas- 
ure ? But when Woodwender and Loveleaves 
answered as before, ‘We have promised to 
drink only running water, and are the children 
of yonder lords: tell us how the spell may be 
broken!’ he turned from them with an angry 
look, poured out the mead, and went his 
way. 

“All that afternoon the children worked 
beside their fathers, planting acorns with the 

[ 77 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 
withered branches; but the lords would mind 
neither them nor their words. And when the 
evening drew near they were very hungry; so 
the children divided their last cake, and, 
when no persuasion would make the lords eat 
with them, they went to the banks of the 
stream, and began to eat and drink, though 
their hearts were heavy. 

“The sun was getting low, and the ravens 
were coming home to their nests in the high 
trees; but one, that seemed old and weary, 
alighted near them to drink at the stream. 
As they ate, the raven lingered, and picked up 
the small crumbs that fell. 

“‘Brother,’ said Loveleaves, ‘this raven is 
surely hungry; let us give it a little bit, though 
it is our last cake.’ 

“Woodwender agreed, and each gave a bit 
to the raven; but its great bill finished the 
morsels in a moment, and, hopping nearer, it 
looked them in the face by turns. 

“‘The poor raven is still hungry,’ said 
Woodwender, and he gave it another bit. 

[78 ] 


WHITE AND GREY CASTLES 

When that was gobbled it came to Love- 
leaves who gave it a bit too, and so on till the 
raven had eaten the whole of their last cake. 

“‘Well/ said Woodwender, ‘at least we 
can have a drink.’ But as they stooped to 
the water there came through the oaks an- 
other hunter, older than the last, and clothed 
in scarlet: about his neck there hung a golden 
bugle, and in his hand he carried a huge oaken 
goblet, carved with the ears of corn and 
the clusters of grapes, rimmed with gold, 
and filled to the brim with wine. He also 
said — 

“‘Leave this muddy water, and drink with 
me. It is full of toads, and not fit for such 
fair children. Surely ye are from fairyland, 
and were reared in its queen’s palace!’ But 
the children said — 

“‘We will drink nothing but this water, and 
yonder are our fathers: tell us how the spell 
may be broken!’ And the hunter turned 
from them with an angry look, poured out 
the wine on the grass, and went his way. 

[ 79 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 
When he was gone, the old raven looked up 
into their faces and said — 

‘“I have eaten your last cake, and I will 
tell you how the spell may be broken. Yon- 
der is the sun, going down behind yon west- 
ern trees. Before it sets, go to the lords, and 
tell them how their stewards used you, and 
made you herd hogs for Hardhold and Dry- 
penny. When you see them listening, catch 
up their wooden spades, and keep them if 
you can till the sun goes down/ 

“ Woodwender and Loveleaves thanked the 
raven, and where it flew they never stopped 
to see, but running to the lords began to 
tell as they were bidden. At first the lords 
would not listen, but as the children related 
how they had been made to sleep on straw, 
how they had been sent to herd hogs in the 
wild pasture, and what trouble they had with 
the unruly swine, the acorn planting grew 
slower, and at last they dropped their spades. 
Then Woodwender, catching up his father’s 
spade, ran to the stream and threw it in. 
[80] 


WHITE AND GREY CASTLES 
Loveleaves did the same for the Lord of the 
White Castle. That moment the sun dis- 
appeared behind the western oaks, and the 
lords stood up, looking, like men just awoke, 
on the forest, on the sky, and on their chil- 
dren. 

“So this strange story has ended, for Wood- 
wender and Loveleaves went home rejoicing 
with their fathers. Each lord returned to 
his castle, and all their tenants made merry. 
The fine toys and the silk clothes, the flower- 
gardens and the best chambers, were taken 
from Hardhold and Drypenny, for the lords’ 
children got them again; and the wicked 
stewards, with their cross boy and girl, were 
sent to herd swine, and live in huts in the 
wild pasture, which everybody said became 
them better. The Lord of the White Castle 
never again wished to see the old woman that 
wove her own hair, and the Lord of the Grey 
Castle continued to be his friend. As for 
Woodwender and Loveleaves, they met with 
no more misfortunes, but grew up, and were 

[ 81 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

married, and inherited the two castles and 
the broad lands of their fathers. Nor did 
they forget the lonely Lady Greensleeves, for 
it was known in the east country that she and 
her dwarf Corner always came to feast with 
them in the Christmas time, and at midsum- 
mer they always went to live with her in the 
great oak in the forest. ,, 

“Oh, mamma, if we had that oak!” said 
the Princess Greedalind. 

“Where does it grow ?” said Queen Want- 
all; but the chair was silent, and a noble lord 
and lady, clad in green velvet, flowered with 
gold, rose up and said — 

“That’s our story.” 

“Excepting the tale of yesterday,” said 
King Winwealth, “I have not heard such a 
story since my brother Wisewit went from 
me, and was lost in the forest. Gaygarters, 
the sixth of my pages, go and bring this maid 
a pair of white silk hose with golden clocks 
on them.” 


[ 82 ] 


WHITE AND GREY CASTLES 

Queen Wantall and Princess Greedalind 
at this looked crosser than ever; but Gaygar- 
ters brought the white silk hose, and Snow- 
flower, having dropped her courtesy and taken 
her seat, was carried once more to the kitchen, 
where they gave her a mattress that night, and 
next day she got the ends of choice dishes. 

The feast, the music, and the dancing went 
on, so did the envies within and the clamours 
without the palace. In the evening King 
Winwealth fell again into low spirits after sup- 
per, and, a message coming down from the 
banquet hall, the kitchen-maid told Snow- 
flower to prepare herself, and go up with her 
grandmother’s chair, for His Majesty wished 
to hear another story. Having washed her 
face and combed her hair, put on her scarlet 
shoes and her gold-clocked hose, Snowflower 
went up as before, seated in her grandmoth- 
er’s chair; and, after courtesying as usual to 
the king, the queen, the princess, and the 
noble company, the little girl laid down her 
head, saying, “ Chair of my grandmother, tell 

[ 83 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

me a story,” and a clear voice from under the 
cushion said — 

“ Listen to the story of the Greedy Shep- 
herd.” 



THE GREEDT SHEPHERD 




THE GREEDY SHEPHERD 

“/'"XNCE upon a time there lived in the 
B M south country two brothers, whose 
business it was to keep sheep on 
a great grassy plain, which was bounded on the 
one side by a forest, and on the other by a 
chain of high hills. No one lived on that plain 
but shepherds, who dwelt in low cottages 
thatched with heath, and watched their sheep 
so carefully that no lamb was ever lost, nor had 
one of the shepherds ever travelled beyond 
the foot of the hills and the skirts of the forest. 
“There were none among them more care- 

[ 85 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 
ful than these two brothers, one of whom was 
called Clutch, and the other Kind. Though 
brethren born, two men of distant countries 
could not be more unlike in disposition. 
Clutch thought of nothing in the world but 
how to catch and keep some profit for him- 
self, while Kind would have shared his last 
morsel with a hungry dog. This covetous 
mind made Clutch keep all his father’s sheep 
when the old man was dead and gone, be- 
cause he was the eldest brother, allowing 
Kind nothing but the place of a servant to 
help him in looking after them. Kind 
wouldn’t quarrel with his brother for the 
sake of the sheep, so he helped him to keep 
them, and Clutch had all his own way. This 
made him agreeable. For some time the 
brothers lived peaceably in their father’s 
cottage, which stood low and lonely under 
the shadow of a great sycamore tree, and kept 
their flock with pipe and crook on the grassy 
plain, till new troubles arose through Clutch’s 
covetousness. 


[86 ] 


THE GREEDT SHEPHERD 

“On that plain there was neither town, nor 
city, nor market-place, where people might 
sell or buy, but the shepherds cared little for 
trade. The wool of their flocks made them 
clothes ; their milk gave them butter and 
cheese. At feast times every family killed 
a lamb or so ; their fields yielded them wheat 
for bread ; the forest supplied them with fire- 
wood for winter ; and every midsummer, 
which is the sheep-shearing time, traders 
from a certain far-off city came through it 
by an ancient way to purchase all the wool 
the shepherds could spare, and give them in 
exchange either goods or money. 

“One midsummer it so happened that 
these traders praised the wool of Clutch’s 
flock above all they found on the plain, and 
gave him the highest price for it. That was 
an unlucky happening for the sheep : from 
henceforth Clutch thought he could never 
get enough wool off them. At the shearing 
time nobody clipped so close, and, in spite 
of all Kind could do or say, he left the poor 

[87] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 
sheep as bare as if they had been shaven ; 
and, as soon as the wool grew long enough 
to keep them warm, he was ready with the 
shears again — no matter how chilly might 
be the days, or how near the winter. Kind 
didn’t like these doings, and many a debate 
they caused between him and his brother. 
Clutch always tried to persuade him that 
close clipping was good for the sheep, and 
Kind always strove to make him think he had 
got all the wool — so they were never done 
with disputes. Still Clutch sold the wool, 
and stored up his profits, and one midsummer 
after another passed. The shepherds began 
to think him a rich man, and close clipping 
might have become the fashion but for a 
strange thing which happened to his flock. 

“The wool had grown well that summer. 
He had taken two crops off them, and was 
thinking of a third, — though the misty morn- 
ings of autumn were come, and the cold even- 
ings made the shepherds put on their winter 
cloaks, — when first the lambs, and then the 
[ 88 ] 


THE GREEDY SHEPHERD 

ewes, began to stray away ; and, search as 
the brothers would, none of them was ever 
found again. Clutch blamed Kind with 
being careless, and watched with all his 
might. Kind knew it was not his fault, but 
he looked sharper than ever. Still the stray- 
ing went on. The flocks grew smaller every 
day, and all the brothers could find out was 
that the closest clipped were the first to go ; 
and, count the flock when they might, some 
were sure to be missed at the folding. 

“Kind grew tired of watching, and Clutch 
lost his sleep with vexation. The other 
shepherds, over whom he had boasted of his 
wool and his profits, were not sorry to see 
pride having a fall. Most of them pitied 
Kind, but all of them agreed that they had 
marvellous ill luck, and kept as far from them 
as they could for fear of sharing it. Still the 
flock melted away as the months wore on. 
Storms and cold weather never stopped them 
from straying, and when the spring came 
back nothing remained with Clutch and 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 
Kind but three old ewes, the quietest and 
tamest of their whole flock. They were 
watching these ewes one evening in the prim- 
rose time, when Clutch, who had never kept 
his eyes off them that day, said — 

“‘Brother, there is wool to be had on their 
backs.’ 

“‘It is too little to keep them warm,’ said 
Kind. ‘The east wind still blows sometimes’ 
— but Clutch was off to the cottage for the 
bag and shears. 

“Kind was grieved to see his brother so 
covetous, and to divert his mind he looked up 
at the great hills : it was a sort of comfort to 
him, ever since their losses began, to look at 
them evening and morning. Now their far- 
off heights were growing crimson with the 
setting sun, but as he looked three creatures 
like sheep scoured up a cleft in one of them 
as fleet as any deer ; and when Kind turned 
he saw his brother coming with the bag and 
shears, bufc not a single ewe was to be seen. 
Clutch’s first question was, what had become 

[90 ] 


THE GREEDY SHEPHERD 

of them ; and when Kind told him what he 
saw, the eldest brother scolded him with 
might and main for ever lifting his eyes off 
them — 

“‘Much good the hills and the sunset will 
do us/ said he, ‘now that we have not a 
single sheep. The other shepherds will 
hardly give us room among them at shearing 
time or harvest ; but, for my part, HI not 
stay on this plain to be despised for poverty. 
If you like to come with me, and be guided by 
my advice, we shall get service somewhere. 
I have heard my father say that there were 
great shepherds living in old times beyond 
the hills ; let us go and see if they will take 
us for sheep-boys/ 

“Kind would rather have stayed and tilled 
his father’s wheat field, hard by the cottage ; 
but since his .eldest brother would go, he 
resolved to bear him company. Accordingly, 
next morning Clutch took his bag and shears, 
Kind took his crook and pipe, and away they 
went over the plain and up the hills. All 

[ 9 * ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

who saw them thought that they had lost their 
senses, for no shepherd had gone there for 
a hundred years, and nothing was to be seen 
but wide moorlands, full of rugged rocks, 
and sloping up, it seemed, to the very sky. 
Kind persuaded his brother to take the direc- 
tion the sheep had taken, but the ground was 
so rough and steep that after two hours’ 
climbing they would gladly have turned 
back, if it had not been that their sheep were 
gone, and the shepherds would laugh at 
them. 

“By noon they came to the stony cleft up 
which the three old ewes had scoured like 
deer ; but both were tired, and sat down to 
rest. Their feet were sore, and their hearts 
were heavy ; but as they sat there, there came 
a sound of music down the hills, as if a thou- 
sand shepherds had been playing on their 
tops. Clutch and Kind had never heard 
such music before. As they listened, the 
soreness passed from their feet, and the heavi- 
ness fom their hearts ; and getting up they 

[92 ] 


THE GREEDY SHEPHERD 

followed the sound up the cleft, and over a 
wide heath, covered with purple bloom ; till, 
at sunset, they came to the hilltop, and saw 
a broad pasture, where violets grew thick 
among the grass, and thousands of snow- 
white sheep were feeding, while an old man 
sat in the midst of them, playing on his pipe. 
He wore a long coat, the colour of the holly 
leaves ; his hair hung to his waist, and his 
beard to his knees ; but both were as white 
as snow, and he had the countenance of one 
who had led a quiet life, and known no cares 
or losses. 

“‘Good father,’ said Kind, for his eldest 
brother hung back and was afraid, ‘tell us 
what land is this, and where can we find ser- 
vice ; for my brother and I are shepherds, 
and can well keep flocks from straying, 
though we have lost our own.’ 

“‘These are the hill pastures,’ said the old 
man, ‘and I am the ancie.it shepherd. My 
flocks never stray, but I have employment for 
you. Which of you can shear best ?’ 

[ 93 ] 


GRANNT’S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

“‘Good father,’ said Clutch, taking cour- 
age, ‘I am the closest shearer in all the plain 
country ; you would not find as much wool 
as would make a thread on a sheep when I 
have done with it.’ 

“‘You are the man for my business,’ re- 
plied the old shepherd. ‘When the moon 
rises, I will call the flock you have to shear. 
Till then sit down and rest, and take your 
supper out of my wallet.’ 

“Clutch and Kind gladly sat down by him 
among the violets, and, opening a leathern 
bag which hung by his side, the old man 
gave them cakes and cheese, and a horn cup 
to drink from at a stream hard by. The 
brothers felt fit for any work after that meal ; 
and Clutch rejoiced in his own mind at the 
chance he had got for showing his skill with 
the shears. ‘Kind will see how useful it is 
to cut close,’ he thought to himself ; but they 
sat with the old man, telling him the news of 
the plain, till the sun went down and the 
moon rose, and all the snow-white sheep 
[ 94 ] 


THE GREEDY SHEPHERD 
gathered and laid themselves down behind 
him. Then he took his pipe and played a 
merry tune, when immediately there was 
heard a great howling, and up the hills 
came a troop of shaggy wolves, with hair so 
long that their eyes could scarcely be seen. 
Clutch would have fled for fear, but the 
wolves stopped, and the old man said to 
him — 

“‘Rise, and shear — this flock of mine have 
too much wool on them/ 

“Clutch had never shorn wolves before, 
yet he couldn’t think of losing the good ser- 
vice, and went forward with a stout heart ; 
but the first of the wolves showed its teeth, 
and all the rest raised such a howl the mo- 
ment he came near them, that Clutch was 
glad to throw down his shears, and run be- 
hind the old man for safety. 

“‘Good father,’ cried he, ‘I will shear 
sheep, but not wolves.’ 

“‘They must be shorn,’ said the old man, 
‘or you go back to the plains, and them after 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

you ; but whichever of you can shear them 
will get the whole flock.’ 

“On hearing this, Clutch began to exclaim 
on his hard fortune, and his brother who had 
brought him there to be hunted and devoured 
by wolves ; but Kind, thinking that things 
could be no worse, caught up the shears he 
had thrown away in his fright, and went 
boldly up to the nearest wolf. To his great 
surprise, the wild creature seemed to know 
him, and stood quietly to be shorn, while the 
rest of the flock gathered round as if waiting 
their turn. Kind clipped neatly, but not too 
close, as he had wished his brother to do with 
the sheep, and heaped up the hair on one side. 
When he had done with one, another came 
forward, and Kind went on shearing by the 
bright moonlight till the whole flock were 
shorn. Then the old man said — 

“ ( Ye have done well ; take the wool and the 
flock for your wages, return with them to the 
plain, and if you please, take this little worth 
brother of yours for a boy to keep them.’ 

[ 0 ] 


THE GREEDY SHEPHERD 

“ Kind did not much like keeping wolves, 
but before he could make answer they had 
all changed into the very sheep which had 
strayed away so strangely. All of them had 
grown fatter and thicker of fleece, and the 
hair he had cut off lay by his side a heap of 
wool so fine and soft that its like had never 
been seen on the plain. 

“ Clutch gathered it up in his empty bag, 
and glad was he to go back to the plain with 
his brother ; for the old man sent them away 
with their flock, saying no man might see 
the dawn of day on that pasture but himself, 
for it was the ground of the fairies. So 
Clutch and Kind went home with great glad- 
ness. All the shepherds came to hear their 
wonderful story, and ever after liked to keep 
near them because they had such good luck. 
They keep the sheep together till this day, 
but Clutch has grown less greedy, and Kind 
alone uses the shears.” 

With these words the voice ceased, and 

[ 97 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

two shepherds, clad in grass-green and crown- 
ed with garlands, rose up, and said — 

“That’s our story.” 

“Mamma,” said Princess Greedalind, 
“what a lovely playground that violet pasture 
would make for me ! ” 

“What wool could be had off all those snow- 
white sheep ! ” said Queen Wantall : but 
King Winwealth said — 

“Excepting yesterday’s tale, and the one 
that went before it, I have not heard such a 
story as that since my brother Wisewit went 
from me, and was lost in the forest. Span- 
gledhose, the fifth of my pages, rise, and 
bring this maiden a white satin gown.” 

Snowflower took the white satin gown, 
thanked the king, courtesied to the good com- 
pany, and went down on her chair to the best 
kitchen. That night they gave her a new 
blanket, and next day she had a cold pie for 
dinner. The music, the feast, and the spite 
continued within the palace ; so did the 
clamours without ; and His Majesty, falling 

[ 98] 


THE GREEDY SHEPHERD 

into low spirits, as usual, after supper, one 
of the under-cooks told Snowflower that a 
message had come down from the highest 
banquet hall for her to go up with her grand- 
mother’s chair, and tell another story. Snow- 
flower accordingly dressed herself in the red 
shoes, the gold-clocked hose, and the white 
satin gown. All the company were glad to 
see her and her chair coming, except the 
queen and the Princess Greedalind ; and 
when the little girl had made her courtesy 
and laid down her head, saying, “Chair of 
my grandmother, tell me a story,” the same 
clear voice said — 

“Listen to the story of Fairyfoot.” 


L.ofC. 






THE STORY OF FAIRY FOOT 



THE STORT OF FAIRTFOOT 

“^^VNCE upon a time there stood far 
1 1 away in the west country a town 

called Stumpinghame. It con- 
tained seven windmills, a royal palace, a 
market-place, and a prison, with every other 
convenience befitting the capital of a king- 
dom. A capital city was Stumpinghame, and 
its inhabitants thought it the only one in the 
world. It stood in the midst of a great plain, 
which for three leagues round its walls was 
covered with corn, flax, and orchards. Be- 
[ioi] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

yond that lay a great circle of pasture land, 
seven leagues in breadth, and it was bounded 
on all sides by a forest so thick and old that 
no man in Stumpinghame knew its extent ; 
and the opinion of the learned was, that it 
reached to the end of the world. 

“ There were strong reasons for this 
opinion. First, that forest was known to be 
inhabited time out of mind by the fairies, and 
no hunter cared to go beyond its borders — 
so all the west country believed it to be solidly 
full of old trees to the heart. Secondly, the 
people of Stumpinghame were no travellers 
— man, woman, and child had feet so large 
and heavy that it was by no means con- 
venient to carry them far. Whether it was 
the nature of the place or the people, I cannot 
tell, but great feet had been the fashion there 
time immemorial, and the higher the family 
the larger were they. It was, therefore, the 
aim of everybody above the degree of shep- 
herds and such-like rustics, to swell out and 
enlarge their feet by way of gentility ; and so 
[ 102 ] 


THE STORY OF FAIRYFOOT 

successful were they in these undertakings 
that, on a pinch, respectable people’s slippers 
would have served for panniers. 

“Stumpinghame had a king of its own, and 
his name was Stiffstep ; his family was very 
ancient and large-footed. His subjects called 
him Lord of the World, and he made a speech 
to them every year concerning the grandeur 
of his mighty empire. His queen, Hammer- 
heel, was the greatest beauty in Stumping- 
hame. Her Majesty’s shoe was not much less 
than a fishing-boat ; their six children prom- 
ised to be quite as handsome, and all went well 
with them till the birth of their seventh son. 

“For a long time nobody about the palace 
could understand what was the matter — the 
ladies-in-waiting looked so astonished, and 
the king so vexed ; but at last it was whisper- 
ed through the city that the queen’s seventh 
child had been born with such miserably 
small feet that they resembled nothing ever 
seen or heard of in Stumpinghame, except 
the feet of the fairies. 

[ 103 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

“The chronicles furnished no example of 
such an affliction ever before happening 
in the royal family. The common people 
thought it portended some great calamity to 
the city ; the learned men began to write 
books about it ; and all the relations of the 
king and queen assembled at the palace to 
mourn with them over their singular misfor- 
tune. The whole court and most of the 
citizens helped in this mourning, but when 
it had lasted seven days they all found out it 
was of no use. So the relajions went to their 
homes, and the people took to their work. 
If the learned men’s books were written, 
nobody ever read them ; and, to cheer up the 
queen’s spirits, the young prince was sent 
privately out to the pasture lands, to be 
nursed among the shepherds. 

“The chief man there was called Fleece- 
fold, and his wife’s name was Rough Ruddy. 
They lived in a snug cottage with their son 
Blackthorn, and their daughter Brownberry, 
and were thought great people, because they 
[ 104 ] 


THE STORY OF FAIRTFOOT 

kept the king's sheep. Moreover, Fleece- 
fold's family was known to be ancient ; and 
Rough Ruddy boasted that she had the 
largest feet in all the pastures. The shep- 
herds held them in high respect, and it grew 
still higher when the news spread that the 
king's seventh son had been sent to their cot- 
tage. People came from all quarters to see 
the young prince, and great were the lamen- 
tations over his misfortune in having such 
small feet. 

“The king and queen had given him four- 
teen names, beginning with Augustus — such 
being the fashion in that royal family ; but the 
honest country people could not remember 
so many ; besides, his feet were the most re- 
markable thing about the child, so with one 
accord they called him Fairyfoot. At first 
it was feared this might be high treason, but 
when no notice was taken by the king or his 
ministers, the shepherds concluded it was no 
harm, and the boy never had another name 
throughout the pastures. At court it was 

[ I0 5 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

not thought polite to speak of him at all. 
They did not keep his birthday, and he was 
never sent for at Christmas, because the 
queen and her ladies could not bear the 
sight. Once a year the undermost scullion 
was sent to see how he did, with a bundle 
of his next brother’s cast-off clothes ; and, 
as the king grew old and cross, it was said he 
had thoughts of disowning him. 

“So Fairyfoot grew in Fleecefold’s cot- 
tage. Perhaps the country air made him 
fair and rosy — for all agreed that he would 
have been a handsome boy but for his small 
feet, with which nevertheless he learned to 
walk, and in time to run and to jump, thereby 
amazing everybody, for such doings were not 
known among the children of Stumpinghame. 
The news of court, however, travelled to 
the shepherds, and Fairyfoot was despised 
among them. The old people thought him 
unlucky ; the children refused to play with 
him. Fleecefold was ashamed to have him 
in his cottage, but he durst not disobey the 
[ 106 ] 


THE STORY OF FAIRYFOOT 

king’s orders. Moreover, Blackthorn wore 
most of the clothes brought by the scullion. 
At last, Rough Ruddy found out that the 
sight of such horrid jumping would make her 
children vulgar ; and, as soon as he was old 
enough, she sent Fairyfoot every day to watch 
some sickly sheep that grazed on a wild 
weedy pasture, hard by the forest. 

“Poor Fairyfoot was often lonely and sor- 
rowful ; many a time he wished his feet would 
grow larger, or that people wouldn’t notice 
them so much ; and all the comfort he had 
was running and jumping by himself in the 
wild pasture, and thinking that none of the 
shepherd’s children could do the like, for all 
their pride of their great feet. 

“Tired of this sport, he was lying in the 
shadow of a mossy rock one warm sum- 
mer’s noon, with the sheep feeding around, 
when a robin, pursued by a great hawk, flew 
into the old velvet cap which lay on the ground 
beside him. Fairyfoot covered it up, and the 
hawk, frightened by his shout, flew away. 

[ 107 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

‘“Now you may go, poor robin ! ’ he said, 
opening the cap ; but instead of the bird out 
sprang a little man dressed in russet brown, 
and looking as if he were a hundred years old. 
Fairyfoot could not speak for astonishment, 
but the little man said — 

“ ‘ Thank you for your shelter, and be sure 
I will do as much for you. Call on me if you 
are ever in trouble ; my name is Robin Good- 
fellow ; ’ and darting off he was out of sight 
in an instant. For days the boy wondered 
who that little man could be, but he told no- 
body, for the little man’s feet were as small 
as his own, and it was clear he would be no 
favourite in Stumpinghame. Fairyfoot kept 
the story to himself, and at last midsummer 
came. That evening was a feast among the 
shepherds. There were bonfires on the hills 
and fun in the villages. But Fairyfoot sat 
alone beside his sheepfold, for the children 
of his village had refused to let him dance 
with them about the bonfire, and he had gone 
there to bewail the size of his feet, which 
[ 108 ] 


THE STORY OF FARITFOOT 

came between him and so many good things. 
Fairyfoot had never felt so lonely in all his 
life, and, remembering the little man, he 
plucked up spirit, and cried — 

‘“Ho! Robin Goodfellow ! ’ 

“‘Here I am/ said a shrill voice at his 
elbow ; and there stood the little man himself. 

“‘I am very lonely, and no one will play 
with me, because my feet are not large 
enough/ said Fairyfoot. 

“‘Come then and play with us/ said the 
little man. ‘We lead the merriest lives in 
the world, and care for nobody’s feet ; but 
all companies have their own manners, and 
there are two things you must mind among 
us : first, do as you see the rest doing ; and 
secondly, never speak of anything you may 
hear or see, for we and the people of this 
country have had no friendship ever since 
large feet came in fashion/ 

“‘I will do that, and anything more you 
like/ said Fairyfoot ; and the little man, 
taking his hand, led him over the pasture 
[ i°9 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

into the forest, and along a mossy path among 
old trees wreathed with ivy (he never knew 
how far), till they heard the sound of music, 
and came upon a meadow where the moon 
shone as bright as day, and all the flowers of 
the year — snowdrops, violets, primroses, and 
cowslips — bloomed together in the thick 
grass. There were a crowd of little men and 
women, some clad in russet colour, but far 
more in green, dancing round a little well 
as clear as crystal. And under great rose 
trees which grew here and there in the 
meadow, companies were sitting round low 
tables covered with cups of milk, dishes of 
honey, and carved wooden flagons filled with 
clear red wine. The little man led Fairyfoot 
up to the nearest table, handed him one of 
the flagons, and said — 

“‘Drink to the good company ! 9 

“Wine was not very common among the 
shepherds of Stumpinghame, and the boy had 
never tasted such drink as that before ; for 
scarcely had it gone down, when he forgot all 

[ no ] 



Two little ladies clad in green talked close beside him 




THE STORY OF FAIRY FOOT 

his troubles — how Blackthorn and Brown- 
berry wore his clothes, how Rough Ruddy 
sent him to keep the sickly sheep, and the 
children would not dance with him : in short, 
he forgot the whole misfortune of his feet, and 
it seemed to his mind that he was a king’s 
son, and all was well with him. All the little 
people about the well cried — 

“‘Welcome! welcome!’ and everyone 
said, ‘Come and dance with me ! 9 So Fairy- 
foot was as happy as a prince, and drank milk 
and ate honey till the moon was low in the 
sky, and then the little man took him by the 
hand, and never stopped nor stayed till he 
was at his own bed of straw in the cottage 
corner. 

“Next morning Fairyfoot was not tired 
for all his dancing. Nobody in the cottage 
had missed him, and he went out with the 
sheep as usual ; but every night all that sum- 
mer, when the shepherds were safe in bed, 
the little man came and took him away to 
dance in the forest. Now he did not care to 

[ i” ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

play with the shepherd’s children, nor grieve 
that his father and mother had forgotten him, 
but watched the sheep all day singing to him- 
self or plaiting rushes ; and, when the sun 
went down, Fairyfoot’s heart rejoiced at the 
thought of meeting that merry company. 

“The wonder was that he was never tired 
nor sleepy, as people are apt to be who dance 
all night ; but before the summer was ended 
Fairyfoot found out the reason. One night, 
when the moon was full, and the last of the 
ripe corn rustling in the fields, Robin Good- 
fellow came for him as usual, and away they 
went to the flowery green. The fun there 
was high, and Robin was in haste. So he 
only pointed to the carved cup from which 
Fairyfoot every night drank the clear red 
wine. 

“‘I am not thirsty, and there is no use 
losing time/ thought the boy to himself, and 
he joined the dance ; but never in all his life 
did Fairyfoot find such hard work as to keep 
pace with the company. Their feet seemed 

t "2 ] 


THE STORY OF FAIRYFOOT 

to move like lightning ; the swallows did not 
fly so fast or turn so quickly. Fairyfoot did 
his best, for he never gave in easily ; but at 
length, his breath and strength being spent, 
the boy was glad to steal away, and sit down 
behind a mossy oak, where his eyes closed 
for very weariness. When he awoke the 
dance was nearly over, but two little ladies 
clad in green talked close beside him. 

“‘What a beautiful boy ! ’ said one of them. 
‘He is worthy to be a king’s son. Only see 
what handsome feet he has ! ’ 

“‘Yes,’ said the other, with a laugh that 
sounded spiteful, ‘they are just like the feet 
Princess Maybloom had before she washed 
them in the Growing Well. Her father has 
sent far and wide throughout the whole coun- 
try searching for a doctor to make them small 
again, but nothing in this world can do it ex- 
cept the water of the Fair Fountain, and none 
but I and the nightingales know where it is.’ 

“‘One would not care to let the like be 
known,’ said the first little lady; ‘there would 
[ ”3 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

come such crowds of these great coarse crea- 
tures of mankind, nobody would have peace 
for leagues round. But you will surely send 
word to the sweet princess! — she was so kind 
to our birds and butterflies, and danced so 
like one of ourselves V 

“‘Not I, indeed!’ said the spiteful fairy. 
‘Her old skinflint of a father cut down the 
cedar which I loved best in the whole forest, 
and made a chest of it to hold his money in; 
besides, I never liked the princess — every- 
body praised her so. But come, we shall be 
too late for the last dance. ,,, 

II 

“When they were gone, Fairyfoot could 
sleep no more with astonishment. He did 
not wonder at the fairies admiring his feet, 
because their own were much the same; but 
it amazed him that Princess Maybloom’s 
father should be troubled at hers growing 
large. Moreover, he wished to see that 
[ IT 4 ] 


THE STORY OF FAIRY FOOT 

same princess and her country, since there 
were really other places in the world than 
Stumpinghame. 

“When Robin Goodfellow came to take 
him home as usual, he durst not let him 
know that he had overheard anything; but 
never was the boy so unwilling to get up as 
on that morning, and all day he was so weary 
that in the afternoon Fairyfoot fell asleep with 
his head on a clump of rushes. It was 
seldom that anyone thought of looking after 
him and the sickly sheep; but it so happened 
that towards evening the old shepherd, Fleece- 
fold, thought he would see how things went 
on in the pastures. The shepherd had a bad 
temper and a thick staff, and no sooner did 
he catch sight of Fairyfoot sleeping, and his 
flock straying away, than shouting all the ill 
names he could remember, in a voice which 
woke up the boy, he ran after him as fast as 
his great feet would allow; while Fairyfoot, 
seeing no other shelter from his fury, fled 
into the forest, and never stopped nor 

[ 115] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

stayed till he reached the banks of a little 
stream. 

“Thinking it might lead him to the fairies’ 
dancing-ground, he followed that stream for 
many an hour, but it wound away into the 
heart of the forest, flowing through dells, 
falling over mossy rocks, and at last leading 
Fairyfoot, when he was tired and the night 
had fallen, to a grove of great rose trees, with 
the moon shining on it as bright as day, and 
thousands of nightingales singing in the 
branches. In the midst of that grove was a 
clear spring, bordered with banks of lilies, 
and Fairyfoot sat down by it to rest himself 
and listen. The singing was so sweet he 
could have listened forever, but as he sat the 
nightingales left off their songs, and began 
to talk together in the silence of the night — 

“‘What boy is that,’ said one on a branch 
above him, ‘who sits so lonely by the Fair 
Fountain ? He cannot have come from 
Stumpinghame with such small and hand- 
some feet.’ 


[ 116 ] 


THE STORY OF FAIRY FOOT 

“‘No, I’ll warrant you/ said another, ‘he 
has come from the west country. How in 
the world did he find his way ?’ 

“ ‘ How simple you are!’ said a third night- 
ingale. ‘What had he to do but follow the 
ground-ivy which grows over height and 
hollow, bank and bush, from the lowest gate 
of the king’s kitchen-garden to the root of this 
rose tree ? He looks a wise boy, and I hope 
he will keep the secret, or we shall have all 
the west country here, dabbling in our foun- 
tain, and leaving us no rest to either talk or 
sing/ 

“Fairyfoot sat in great astonishment at 
this discourse; but by and by, when the talk 
ceased and the songs began, he thought it 
might be as well for him to follow the ground- 
ivy, and see the Princess Maybloom, not to 
speak of getting rid of Rough Ruddy, the 
sickly sheep, and the crusty old shepherd. 
It was a long journey; but he went on, eating 
wild berries by day, sleeping in the hollows of 
old trees by night, and never losing sight of 

[ 117 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

the ground-ivy, led him over height and 
hollow, bank and bush, out of the forest, 
and along a noble high road, with fields and 
villages on every side, to a great city, and a 
low old-fashioned gate of the king’s kitchen- 
garden, which was thought too mean for the 
scullions, and had not been opened for seven 
years. 

“There was no use knocking — the gate 
was overgrown with tall weeds and moss; so, 
being an active boy, he climbed over, and 
walked through the garden, till a white fawn 
came frisking by, and he heard a soft voice 
saying sorrowfully — 

“‘Come back, come back, my fawn! I 
cannot run and play with you now, my feet 
have grown so heavy;’ and looking round 
he saw the loveliest young princess in the 
world, dressed in snow-white, and wearing 
a wreath of roses on her golden hair; but 
walking slowly, as the great people did in 
Stumpinghame, for her feet were as large as 
the best of them. 


[ n8 ] 


THE STORY OF FAIRY FOOT 

“ After her came six young ladies, dressed 
in white, and walking slowly, for they could 
not go before the princess; but Fairyfoot was 
amazed to see that*their feet were as small as 
his own. At once he guessed that this must 
be the Princess Maybloom, and made her a 
humble bow, saying — 

“‘Royal princess, I have heard of your 
trouble because your feet have grown large: 
in my country that’s all the fashion. For 
seven years past I have been wondering what 
would make mine grow, to no purpose; but 
I know of a certain fountain that will make 
yours smaller and finer than ever they were, 
if the king, your father, gives you leave to 
come with me, accompanied by two of your 
maids that are the least given to talking, and 
the most prudent officer in all his household; 
for it would grievously offend the fairies 
and the nightingales to make that fountain 
known/ 

“When the princess heard that, she danced 
for joy in spite of her large feet, and she 

[ 119 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

and her six maids brought Fairyfoot before 
the king and queen, where they sat in their 
palace hall, with all the courtiers paying 
their morning compliments. The lords were 
very much astonished to see a ragged, bare- 
footed boy brought in among them, and the 
ladies thought Princess Maybloom must have 
gone mad; but Fairyfoot, making a humble 
reverence, told his message to the king and 
queen, and offered to set out with the prin- 
cess that very day. At first the king would 
not believe that there could be any use in 
his offer, because so many great physicians 
had failed to give any relief. The courtiers 
laughed Fairyfoot to scorn, the pages wanted 
to turn him out for an impudent impostor, 
and the prime minister said he ought to be 
put to death for high treason. 

“ Fairyfoot wished himself safe in the 
forest again, or even keeping the sickly sheep; 
but the queen, being a prudent woman, said — 

“‘I pray your majesty to notice what fine 
feet this boy has. There may be some truth 
[ 120 ] 


THE STORY OF FAIRYFOOT 

in his story. For the sake of our only daugh- 
ter, I will choose two maids who talk the least 
of all our train, and my chamberlain, who is 
the most discreet officer in our household. 
Let them go with the princess: who knows 
but our sorrow may be lessened ?* 

“ After some persuasion the king consented, 
though all his councillors advised the con- 
trary. So the two silent maids, the discreet 
chamberlain, and her fawn, which would not 
stay behind, were sent with Princess May- 
bloom, and they all set out after dinner. 
Fairyfoot had hard work guiding them along 
the track of the ground-ivy. The maids and 
the chamberlain did not like the brambles 
and rough roots of the forest — they thought 
it hard to eat berries, and sleep in hollow 
trees; but the princess went on with good 
courage, and at last they reached the grove 
of rose trees, and the spring bordered with 
lilies. 

“The chamberlain washed — and though 
his hair had been grey, and his face wrinkled, 
[ 121 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

the young courtiers envied his beauty for 
years after. The maids washed — and from 
that day they were esteemed the fairest in all 
the palace. Lastly, the princess washed also 
— it could make her no fairer, but the mo- 
ment her feet touched the water they grew 
less, and when she had washed and dried 
them three times, they were as small and 
finely shaped as Fairyfoot’s own. There 
was great joy among them, but the boy said 
sorrowfully — 

“‘Oh, if there had been a well in the world 
to make my feet large, my father and mother 
would not have cast me off*, nor sent me to 
live among the shepherds.’ 

“‘Cheer up your heart,’ said the Princess 
Maybloom; ‘if you want large feet, there is 
a well in this forest that will do it. Last sum- 
mer time I came with my father and his fores- 
ters to see a great cedar cut down, of which he 
meant to make a money chest. While they 
were busy with the cedar, I saw a bramble 
branch covered with berries. Some were 
[ 122 ] 


THE STORY OF FAIRYFOOT 

ripe and some were green, but it was the 
longest bramble that ever grew; for the sake 
of the berries, I went on and on to its root, 
which grew hard by a muddy-looking well, 
with banks of dark green moss, in the deepest 
part of the forest. The day was warm and 
dry, and my feet were sore with the rough 
ground, so I took off my scarlet shoes, and 
washed my feet in the well; but as I washed 
they grew larger every minute, and nothing 
could ever make them less again. I have 
seen the bramble this day; it is not far off, 
and, as you have shown me the Fair Foun- 
tain, I will show you the Growing Well/ 

“Up rose Fairyfoot and Princess May- 
bloom, and went together till they found the 
bramble, and came to where its root grew, 
hard by the muddy-looking well, with banks 
of dark green moss, in the deepest dell of the 
forest. Fairyfoot sat down to wash, but at 
that minute he heard a sound of music, and 
knew it was the fairies going to their dancing- 
ground. 


[ 123 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

“‘If my feet grow large/ said the boy to 
himself, ‘how shall I dance with them ?’ So, 
rising quickly, he took the Princess Maybloom 
by the hand. The fawn followed them; the 
maids and the chamberlain followed it, and 
all followed the music through the forest. 
At last they came to the flowery green. Robin 
Goodfellow welcomed the company for Fairy- 
foot’s sake, and gave everyone a drink of the 
fairies’ wine. So they danced there from sun- 
set till the grey morning, and nobody was 
tired; but, before the lark sang, Robin Good- 
fellow took them all safe home, as he used to 
take Fairyfoot. 

“There was great joy that day in the 
palace because Princess Maybloom’s feet 
were made small again. The king gave 
Fairyfoot all manner of fine clothes and rich 
jewels; and when they heard his wonderful 
story, he and the queen asked him to live with 
them and be their son. In process of time 
Fairyfoot and Princess Maybloom were 
married, and still live happily. When they 
[ 124 ] 


THE STORY OF FAIRYFOOT 

go to visit at Stumpinghame they always wash 
their feet in the Growing Well, lest the royal 
family might think them a disgrace, but when 
they come back they make haste to the Fair 
Fountain; and the fairies and the nightingales 
are great friends to them, as well as the maids 
and the chamberlain, because they have told 
nobody about it, and there is peace and quiet 
yet in the grove of rose trees.” 

Here the voice out of the cushion ceased, 
and two that wore crowns of gold, and were 
clothed in cloth of silver, rose up, and said — 

“ That’s our story.” 

“Mamma,” said Princess Greedalind, “if 
we could find out that Fair Fountain, and 
keep it all to ourselves!” 

“Yes, my daughter, and the Growing 
Well to wash our money in,” replied Queen 
Wantall: but King Winwealth said — 

“Excepting yesterday’s tale, and the two 
that went before it, I have not heard such a 
story since my brother Wisewit went from 
[ 125 ] 


GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

me, and was lost in the forest. Silverspurs, 
the fourth of my pages, go and bring this 
maiden a pearl necklace. ,, 

Snowflower received the necklace accord- 
ingly, gave her thanks, made her courtesy, 
and went down on her grandmother’s chair 
to the servants’ hall. That night they gave 
her a down pillow, and next day she dined on 
a roast chicken. The feasting within and the 
clamour without went on as the days before : 
King Winwealth fell into his accustomed low 
spirits after supper, and sent down a message 
for Snowflower, which was told her by the 
master-cook. So the little girl went up in her 
grandmother’s chair, with red shoes, the 
clocked hose, the white satin gown, and the 
pearl necklace on. All the company wel- 
comed her with joyful looks, and no sooner 
had she made her courtesy, and laid down 
her head, saying, “Chair of my grandmother, 
tell me a story,” than the clear voice from 
under the cushion said — 

“Listen to the story of Childe Charity.” 

[ 126 ] 


THE STORY OF CHILDE CHARITY 




* 















THE STORY OF CHILDE CHARITY 

it /^VNCE upon a time there lived in the 
1 a west country a little girl who had 
neither father nor mother ; they 
both died when she was very young, and left 
their daughter to the care of her uncle, who 
was the richest farmer in all that country. 
He had houses and lands, flocks and herds, 
many servants to work about his house and 
fields, a wife who had brought him a great 
dowry, and two fair daughters. All their 
neighbours, being poor, looked up to the fam- 

f 127 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

ily — insomuch that they imagined them- 
selves great people. The father and mother 
were as proud as peacocks; the daughters 
thought themselves the greatest beauties in 
the world, and not one of the family would 
speak civilly to anybody they thought low. 

“Now it happened that, though she was 
their near relation, they had this opinion of 
the orphan girl, partly because she had no 
fortune, and partly because of her humble, 
kindly disposition. It was said that the more 
needy and despised any creature was, the 
more ready was she to befriend it: on which 
account the people of the west country called 
her Childe Charity, and if she had any other 
name I never heard it. Childe Charity was 
thought very mean in that proud house. 
Her uncle would not own her for his niece; 
her cousins would not keep her company; 
and her aunt sent her to work in the dairy, 
and to sleep in the back garret, where they 
kept all sorts of lumber and dry herbs for the 
winter. All the servants learned the same 
[ 128 ] 


THE STORY OF CHILDE CHARITY 

tune, and Childe Charity had more work than 
rest among them. All the day she scoured 
pails, scrubbed dishes, and washed crockery- 
ware; but every night she slept in the back 
garret as sound as a princess could in her 
palace chamber. 

“Her uncle’s house was large and white, 
and stood among green meadows by a river’s 
side. In front it had a porch covered with a 
vine; behind, it had a farmyard and high 
granaries. Within, there were two parlours 
for the rich, and two kitchens for the poor, 
which the neighbours thought wonderfully 
grand; and one day, in the harvest season, 
when this rich farmer’s corn had been all cut 
down and housed, he condescended so far as 
to invite them to a harvest supper. The 
west-country people came in their holiday 
clothes and best behaviour. Such heaps of 
cakes and cheese, such baskets of apples and 
barrels of ale, had never been at feast before; 
and they were making merry in kitchen and 
parlour, when a poor old woman came to the 
[ !29 ] 


GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

back door, begging for broken victuals and a 
night’s lodging. Her clothes were coarse 
and ragged; her hair was scanty and grey; 
her back was bent; her teeth were gone. She 
had a squinting eye, a clubbed foot, and 
crooked fingers. In short, she was the poor- 
est and ugliest old woman that ever came 
begging. The first who saw her was the 
kitchen-maid, and she ordered her to be gone 
for an ugly witch; the next was the herd-boy, 
and he threw her a bone over his shoulder. 
But Childe Charity, hearing the noise, came 
out from her seat at the foot of the lowest 
table, and asked the old woman to take her 
share of the supper, and sleep that night in 
her bed in the back garret. The old woman 
sat down without a word of thanks. All the 
company laughed at Childe Charity for giv- 
ing her bed and her supper to a beggar. Her 
proud cousins said it was just like her mean 
spirit, but Childe Charity did not mind them. 
She scraped the pots for her supper that night, 
and slept on a sack among the lumber, while 

[ 130 ] 


THE STORY OF CHILDE CHARITY 

the old woman rested in her warm bed; and 
next morning, before the little girl awoke, she 
was up and gone, without so much as saying 
‘thank you ’ or ‘ good-morning/ 

“That day all the servants were sick after 
the feast, and mostly cross too — so you may 
judge how civil they were; when, at supper 
time, who should come to the back door but 
the old woman, again asking for broken vic- 
tuals and a night’s lodging. No one would 
listen to her or give her a morsel, till Childe 
Charity arose from her seat at the foot of the 
lowest table, and kindly asked her to take her 
supper, and sleep in her bed in the back gar- 
ret. Again the old woman sat down without 
a word. Childe Charity scraped the pots for 
her supper, and slept on the sack. In the 
morning the old woman was gone; but for 
six nights after, as sure as the supper was 
spread, there was she at the back door, and 
the little girl regularly asked her in. 

“Childe Charity’s aunt said she would 
let her get enough of beggars. Her cousins 

[ 131 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

made continual game of what they called her 
genteel visitor. Sometimes the old woman 
said, ‘Child, why don’t you make this bed 
softer? and why are your blankets so thin ?’ 
but she never gave her a word of thanks nor 
a civil good-morning. At last, on the ninth 
night from her first coming, when Childe 
Charity was getting used to scrape the pots 
and sleep on the sack, her accustomed knock 
came to the door, and there she stood with 
an ugly ashy-coloured dog, so stupid-looking 
and clumsy that no herd-boy would keep 
him. 

“‘Good evening, my little girl,’ she said, 
when Childe Charity opened the door; ‘I will 
not have your supper and bed to-night — I am 
going on a long journey to see a friend; but 
here is a dog of mine, whom nobody in all the 
west country will keep for me. He is a little 
cross, and not very handsome; but I leave 
him to your care till the shortest day in all 
the year. Then you and I will count for his 
keeping.’ 


[ *3* ] 



In marched a troop of little men clothed in crimson 

and gold 
















































«• 








































THE STORY OF CHILDE CHARITY 


“When the old woman had said the last 
word, she set off with such speed that Childe 
Charity lost sight of her in a minute. The 
ugly dog began to fawn upon her, but he 
snarled at everybody else. The servants 
said he was a disgrace to the house. The 
proud cousins wanted him drowned, and it 
was with great trouble that Childe Charity 
got leave to keep him in an old ruined cow- 
house. Ugly and cross as the dog was, he 
fawned on her, and the old woman had left 
him to her care. So the little girl gave him 
part of all her meals, and, when the hard frost 
came, took him privately to her own back 
garret, because the cow-house was damp and 
cold in the long nights. The dog lay quietly 
on some straw in a corner. Childe Charity 
slept soundly, but every morning the servants 
would say to her — 

“‘What great light and fine talking was 
that in your back garret ?’ 

“‘There was no light but the moon shining 
in through the shutterless window, and no talk 

[ 133 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

that I heard/ said Childe Charity, and she 
thought they must have been dreaming; but 
night after night, when any of them awoke in 
the dark and silent hour that comes before the 
morning, they saw a light brighter and clearer 
than the Christmas fire, and heard voices like 
those of lords and ladies in the back garret. 

“Partly from fear, and partly from lazi- 
ness, none of the servants would rise to see 
what might be there; till at length, when the 
winter nights were at the longest, the little 
parlour-maid, who did least work, and got 
most favour, because she gathered news for 
her mistress, crept out of bed when all the 
rest were sleeping, and set herself to watch at 
a crevice of the door. She saw the dog lying 
quietly in the corner, Childe Charity sleeping 
soundly in her bed, and the moon shining 
through the shutterless window; but an hour 
before daybreak there came a glare of lights, 
and a sound of far-off bugles. The window 
opened, and in marched a troop of little men 
clothed in crimson and gold, and bearing 

[ 134] 


THE STORY OF CHILDE CHARITY 

every man a torch, till the room looked bright 
as day. They marched up with great reve- 
rence to the dog, where he lay on the straw, and 
the mostly richly clothed among them said — 

“‘Royal prince, we have prepared the 
banquet hall. What will your highness please 
that we do next ?’ 

“‘Ye have done well/ said the dog. ‘Now 
prepare the feast and see that all things be in 
our first fashion: for the princess and I mean 
to bring a stranger who never feasted in our 
halls before.’ 

“‘Your highness’s commands shall be 
obeyed,’ said the little man, making another 
reverence; and he and his company passed 
out of the window. By and by there was an- 
other glare of lights, and a sound like far-off 
flutes. The window opened, and there came 
in a company of little ladies clad in rose- 
coloured velvet, and carrying each a crystal 
lamp. They also walked with great reve- 
rence up to the dog, and the gayest among 
them said — 


GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

“‘Royal prince, we have prepared the 
tapestry. What will your highness please 
that we do next ?’ 

“‘Ye have done well/ said the dog. ‘Now 
prepare the robes, and let all things be in our 
first fashion: for the princess and I will bring 
with us a stranger who never feasted in our 
halls before/ 

“‘Your highness’s commands shall be 
obeyed,’ said the little lady, making a low 
courtesy; and she and her company passed out 
through the window, which closed quietly be- 
hind them. The dog stretched himself out 
upon the straw, the little girl turned in her 
sleep, and the moon shone in on the back 
garret. The parlour-maid was so much 
amazed and so eager to tell this great story 
to her mistress, that she could not close her 
eyes that night, and was up before cock- 
crow; but when she told it her mistress called 
her a silly wench to have such foolish dreams, 
and scolded her so that the parlour-maid 
durst not mention what she had seen to the 

[ *36 ] 


THE STORY OF CHILDE CHARITY 

servants. Nevertheless Childe Charity’s aunt 
thought there might be something in it worth 
knowing; so next night, when all the house 
were asleep, she crept out of bed, and set 
herself to watch at the back garret door. 
There she saw exactly what the maid told 
her — the little men with the torches, and the 
little ladies with the crystal lamps, come in 
making great reverence to the dog, and the 
same words pass, only he said to the one, 
‘Now prepare the presents,’ and to the other, 
‘Prepare the jewels;’ and when they were 
gone the dog stretched himself on the straw, 
Childe Charity turned in her sleep, and the 
moon shone in on the back garret. 

“The mistress could not close her eyes any 
more than the maid, from eagerness to tell 
the story. She woke up Childe Charity’s rich 
uncle before cock-crow; but when he heard 
it he laughed at her for a foolish woman, and 
advised her not to repeat the like before the 
neighbours, lest they should think she had 
lost her senses. The mistress could say no 

[ 137 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

more, and the day passed; but that night the 
master thought he would like to see what 
went on in the back garret; so when all the 
house were asleep he slipped out of bed, and 
set himself to watch at the crevice in the door. 
The same thing happened again that the maid 
and the mistress saw: the little men in crimson 
with their torches, and the little ladies in rose- 
coloured velvet with their lamps, came in at 
the window, and made a humble reverence to 
the ugly dog, the one saying, ‘ Royal prince, we 
have prepared the presents,’ and the other, 
4 Royal prince, we have prepared the jewels;’ 
and the dog said to them all, ‘Ye have done 
well. To-morrow come and meet me and 
the princess with horses and chariots, and 
let all things be in our first fashion: for we 
will bring a stranger from this house who has 
never travelled with us, nor feasted in our 
halls before/ 

“The little men and the little ladies said, 
‘Your highness’s commands shall be obeyed.’ 
When they had gone out through the window, 

[138 ] 


THE STORY OF CHILDE CHARITY 

the ugly dog stretched himself on the straw, 
Childe Charity turned in her sleep, and the 
moon shone in on the back garret. 

“The master could not close his eyes any 
more than the maid or the mistress, for think- 
ing of this strange sight. He remembered to 
have heard his grandfather say, that some- 
where near his meadows there lay a path 
leading to the fairies’ country, and the hay- 
makers used to see it shining through the grey 
summer morning as the fairy bands went 
home. Nobody had heard or seen the like 
for many years; but the master concluded 
that the doings in his back garret must be a 
fairy business, and the ugly dog a person of 
great account. His chief wonder was, how- 
ever, what visitor the fairies intended to take 
from his house; and, after thinking the matter 
over, he was sure it must be one of his daugh- 
ters — they were so handsome and had such 
fine clothes. 

“Accordingly, Childe Charity’s rich uncle 
made it his first business that morning to get 
[ J 39 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

ready a breakfast of roast mutton for the ugly 
dog, and carry it to him in the old cow-house; 
but not a morsel would the dog taste. On 
the contrary, he snarled at the master, and 
would have bitten him if he had not run away 
with his mutton. 

“‘The fairies have strange ways/ said the 
master to himself; but he called his daugh- 
ters privately, bidding them dress themselves 
in their best, for he could not say which of 
them might be called into great company be- 
fore nightfall. Childe Charity’s proud cous- 
ins, hearing this, put on the richest of their 
silks and laces, and strutted like peacocks 
from kitchen to parlour all day, waiting for 
the call their father spoke of, while the little 
girl scoured and scrubbed in the dairy. They 
were in very bad humour when night fell, and 
nobody had come; but just as the family 
were sitting down to supper the ugly dog be- 
gan to bark, and the old woman’s knock was 
heard at the back door. Childe Charity 
opened it, and was going to offer her bed 
[ HO ] 


THE STORY OF CHILDE CHARITY 

and supper as usual, when the old woman 
said — 

“‘This is the shortest day in all the year, 
and I am going home to hold a feast after my 
travels. I see you have taken good care of 
my dog, and now, if you will come with me 
to my house, he and I will do our best to en- 
tertain you. Here is our company.’ 

“As the old woman spoke, there was a 
sound of far-off flutes and bugles, then a glare 
of lights; and a great company, clad so grand- 
ly that they shone with gold and jewels, came 
in open chariots, covered with gilding and 
drawn by snow-white horses. The first and 
finest of the chariots was empty. The old 
woman led Childe Charity to it by the hand, 
and the ugly dog jumped in before her. The 
proud cousins, in all their finery, had by this 
time come to the door, but nobody wanted 
them; and no sooner was the old woman and 
her dog within the chariot than a marvellous 
change passed over them, for the ugly old 
woman turned at once to a beautiful young 

[ 141 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

princess, with long yellow curls and a robe of 
green and gold, while the ugly dog at her side 
started up a fair young prince, with nut-brown 
hair and a robe of purple and silver. 

“‘We are,’ said they, as the chariots drove 
on, and the little girl sat astonished, ‘a prince 
and princess of fairyland, and there was a 
wager between us whether or not there were 
good people still to be found in these false 
and greedy times. One said Yes, and the 
other said No; and I have lost,’ said the prince 
‘and must pay the feast and presents/ 

“Childe Charity never heard any more of 
that story. Some of the farmer’s household, 
who were looking after them through the 
moonlight night, said the chariots had gone 
one way across the meadows, some said they 
had gone another, and till this day they can- 
not agree upon the direction. But Childe 
Charity went with that noble company into a 
country such as she had never seen — for 
primroses covered all the ground, and the 
light was always like that of a summer even- 

[ 142 ] 


THE STORY OF CHILDE CHARITY 

ing. They took her to a royal palace, where 
there was nothing but feasting and dancing 
for seven days. She had robes of pale green 
velvet to wear, and slept in a chamber inlaid 
with ivory. When the feast was done, the 
prince and princess gave her such heaps of 
gold and jewels that she could not carry them, 
but they gave her a chariot to go home in, 
drawn by six white horses; and on the seventh 
night, which happened to be Christmas time, 
when the farmer’s family had settled in their 
own minds that she would never come back, 
and were sitting down to supper, they heard 
the sound of her coachman’s bugle, and saw 
her alight with all the jewels and gold at the 
very back door where she had brought in the 
ugly old woman. The fairy chariot drove 
away, and never came back to that farmhouse 
after. But Childe Charity scrubbed and 
scoured no more, for she grew a great lady, 
even in the eyes of her proud cousins.” 

Here the voice out of the cushion ceased, 

[ H3 ] 


GRAN NT’S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

and one, with a fair face and a robe of pale 
green velvet, rose from among the company, 
and said — 

“ That’s my story.” 

“ Mamma,” said Princess Greedalind, “ if 
we had some of those fine chariots !” 

“Yes, my daughter,” answered Queen 
Wantall, “ and the gold and the jewels too!” 
But King Winwealth said — 

“ Excepting yesterday’s story, and the 
three that went before it, I have not heard 
such a tale since my brother Wisewit went 
from me, and was lost in the forest. High- 
jinks, the third of my pages, go and bring this 
maiden a crimson velvet hat.” 

Snowflower took the hat and thanked the 
king, made her courtesy, and went down on 
her grandmother’s chair to the housekeeper’s 
parlour. Her blanket was covered with a 
patchwork quilt that night; next day she had 
roast turkey and meat for dinner. But the 
feast went on in the palace hall with the usual 
spites and envies ; the clamour and com- 
[ ! 4 + ] 


THE STORY OF CHILDE CHARITY 

plaints at the gate were still heard above all 
the music; and King Winwealth fell into his 
wonted low spirits as soon as supper was over. 
As usual, a message came down from the ban- 
quet hall, and the chief butler told Snow- 
flower that she and her chair were wanted to 
tell King Winwealth a story. So she went up 
with all the presents on, even to the crimson 
hat, made her courtesy to the good company, 
and had scarcely said, “Chair of my grand- 
mother, tell me a story,” when the voice from 
under the cushion said — 

“Listen to the story of Sour and Civil.” 



* 


SOUR AND CIVIL 










4 


s 

- 

































































r 

















































- 








































































































































SOUR AND CIVIL 

U ^"^VNCE upon a time there stood upon 
1 M the seashore of the west country, 
a certain hamlet of low cottages, 
where no one lived but fishermen. All round 
it was a broad beach of snow-white sand, 
where nothing was to be seen but gulls and 
cormorants, and long tangled seaweeds cast 
up by the tide that came and went night and 
day, summer and winter. There was no 
harbour nor port on all that shore. Ships 
passed by at a distance, with their white sails 
set, and on the land side there lay wide grassy 
downs, where peasants lived and shepherds 

[ 147 ] 


} 


GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

them. But when the sea was growing crim- 
son with the sunset their nets were empty, and 
they were tired. Civil himself did not like to 
go home without fish — it would damage the 
high repute they had gained in the village. 
Besides, the sea was calm and the evening 
fair, and, as a last attempt, they steered still 
farther out, and cast their nets beside a rock 
which rose rough and grey from the water, 
and was called the Merman’s Seat — from an 
old report that the fishermen’s fathers had 
seen the mermen, or sea-people, sitting there 
on moonlight nights. Nobody believed that 
rumour now, but the villagers did not like to 
fish there. The water was said to be deep 
beyond measure, and sudden squalls were apt 
to trouble it; but Sour and Civil were right 
glad to see by the moving of their lines that 
there was something in the net, and gladder 
still when they found it was so heavy that all 
their strength was required to draw it up. 
Scarcely had they landed it on the Merman’s 
Seat, when their joy was changed to disap- 

[ 150 ] 


SOUR AND CIVIL 

pointment, for besides a few starved mack- 
erel the net contained nothing but a mon- 
strous ugly fish as long as Civil (who was 
taller than Sour), with a huge snout, a long 
beard, and a skin covered with prickles. 

Such a horrid ugly creature!’ said Sour, 
as they shook it out of the net on the rough 
rock, and gathered up the mackerel. ‘We 
needn’t fish here any more. How they will 
mock us in the village for staying out so late, 
and bringing home so little!’ 

“‘Let us try again,’ said Civil, as he set his 
creel of mackerel in the boat. 

“‘Not another cast will I make to-night;’ 
and what more Sour would have said was cut 
short by the great fish, for, looking round at 
them, it spoke out — 

“‘I suppose you don’t think me worth 
taking home in your dirty boat; but I can tell 
you that if you were down in my country, 
neither of you would be thought fit to keep 
me company.’ 

“ Sour and Civil were terribly astonished to 

t *51 ] 


GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

hear the fish speak. The first could not think 
of a cross word to say, but Civil made answer 
in his accustomed manner. 

“‘Indeed, my lord, we beg your pardon, 
but our boat is too light to carry such a fish as 
you/ 

“‘You do well to call me lord/ said the fish, 
‘for so I am, though it was hard to expect you 
could have known my quality in this dress. 
However, help me off the rock, for I must go 
home; and for your civility I will give you my 
daughter in marriage, if you will come and see 
me this day twelvemonth/ 

“Civil helped the great fish off the rock 
as respectfully as his fear would allow him. 
Sour was so terrified at the whole transaction 
that he said not a word till they got straight 
home; but from that day forward, when he 
wanted to put Civil down, it was his custom 
to tell him and his mother that he would get 
no wife but the ugly fish’s daughter. 

“Old Dame Sour heard this story from her 
son, and told it over the whole village. Some 
[ !52 ] 



Three fair ladies with sea-green gowns and strings 
of pearls wound round their long fair hair 


















































































































SOUR AND CIVIL 
people wondered, but the most part laughed 
at it as a good joke; and Civil and his mother 
were never known to be angry but on that 
occasion. Dame Civil advised her son never 
to fish with Sour again; and, as the boat hap- 
pened to be his, Civil got an old skiff which 
one of the fishermen was going to break up 
for firewood, and cobbled it up for himself. 

“In that skiff he went to sea alone all the 
winter, and all the summer; but, though Civil 
was brave and skilful, he could catch little, 
because his boat was bad — and everybody but 
his mother began to think him of no value. 
Sour, having the good boat, got a new com- 
rade, and had the praise of being the best 
fisherman. 

“ Poor Civil's heart was getting low as the 
summer wore away. The fish had grown 
scarce on that coast, and the fishermen had to 
steer farther out to sea. One evening, when 
he had toiled all day and caught nothing, 
Civil thought he would go farther too, and try 
his fortune beside the Merman’s Rock. The 
[ *53 ] 


GRANNT’S WONDERFUL CHAIR 
sea was calm, and the evening fair. Civil did 
not remember it was the very day on which his 
troubles began by the great fish talking to him 
twelve months before. As he neared the rock 
the sun was setting, and much astonished was 
the fisherman to see standing upon it three 
fair ladies, with sea-green gowns and strings 
of great pearls wound round their long fair 
hair; two of them were waving their hands 
to him. They were the tallest and state- 
liest ladies he had ever seen; but Civil could 
perceive as he came nearer that there was 
no colour in their cheeks, that their hair 
had a strange bluish shade, like that of deep- 
sea water, and there was a fiery light in their 
eyes that frightened him. The third, who 
was less of stature, did not notice him at all, 
but kept her eyes fixed on the setting sun. 
Though her look was mournful, Civil could 
see that there was a faint rosy bloom on her 
cheek — but her hair was a golden yellow, 
and her eyes were mild and clear like those of 
his mother. 


[154] 


SOUR AND CIVIL 
Welcome! welcome! noble fisherman V 
cried the two ladies. ‘Our father has sent 
us for you to visit him/ and with one bound 
they leaped into his boat, bringing with them 
the smaller lady, who said — 

“‘Oh, bright sun and brave sky that I see 
so seldom!’ But Civil heard no more, for his 
boat went down miles deep in the sea, and he 
thought himself drowning; but one lady had 
caught him by the right arm, and the other by 
the left, and pulled him into the mouth of a 
rocky cave, where there was no water. On 
they went, still down and down, as if on a 
steep hillside. The cave was very long, but 
it grew wider as they came to the bottom. 
Then Civil saw a faint light, and walked out 
with his fair company into the country of the 
sea-people. In that land there grew neither 
grass nor flowers, bushes nor trees, but the 
ground was covered with bright coloured 
shells and pebbles. There were hills of 
marble, and rocks of spar; and over all a 
cold blue sky, with no sun, but a light clear 

[ 155 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 
and silvery as that of the harvest moon. 
The fisherman could see no smoking chim- 
neys, but there were grottoes in the sparry 
rocks, and halls in the marble hills, where 
lived the sea-people — with whom, as old 
stories say, fishermen and mariners used to 
meet on lonely capes and headlands in the 
simple times of the world. 

“Forth they came in all directions to see 
the stranger. Mermen with long white beards, 
and mermaids such as walk with the fisher- 
men, all clad in sea-green, and decorated 
with strings of pearls; but everyone with 
the same colourless face, and the same wild 
light in their eyes. The mermaids led Civil 
up one of the marble hills to a great cavern 
with halls and chambers like a palace. Their 
floors were of alabaster, their walls of por- 
phyry, and their ceilings inlaid with coral. 
Thousands of crystal lamps lit the palace. 
There were seats and tables hewn out of shin- 
ing spar, and a great company sat feasting; 
but what most amazed Civil was the quan- 

[156] 


SOUR AND CIVIL 

tity of cups, flagons, and goblets, made of gold 
and silver, of such different shapes and pat- 
terns that they seemed to have been gathered 
from all the countries of the world. In the 
chief hall there sat a merman on a stately 
chair, with more jewels than all the rest about 
him. Before him the mermaids brought 
Civil, saying — 

“ 4 Father, here is our guest/ 

Welcome, noble fisherman 1 / cried the 
merman, in a voice which Civil remembered 
with terror, for it was that of the great ugly 
fish; ‘welcome to our halls! Sit down and 
feast with us, and then choose which of my 
daughters you will have for a bride/ 

“ Civil had never felt himself so thoroughly 
frightened in all his life. How was he to get 
home to his mother ? and what would the old 
dame think when the dark night came with- 
out bringing him home ? There was no use 
in talking — Civil had wisdom enough to see 
that: he therefore tried to take things quietly; 
and, having thanked the merman for his in- 

[ *57 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

vitation, took the seat assigned him on his 
right hand. Civil was hungry with the long 
day at sea, but there was no want of fare on 
that table; meats and wines, .such as he had 
never tasted, were set before him in the rich- 
est of golden dishes; but, hungry as he was, 
the fisherman perceived that everything there 
had the taste and smell of the sea. 

“If the fisherman had been the lord of lands 
and castles he could not have been treated 
with more respect. The two mermaids sat 
by him — one filled his plate, another filled his 
goblet; but the third only looked at him in a 
stealthy, warning way when nobody perceived 
her. Civil soon finished his share of the feast, 
and then the merman showed him all the 
splendours of his cavern. The halls were full 
of company, some feasting, some dancing, 
and some playing all manner of games, and in 
every hall was the same abundance of gold 
and silver vessels; but Civil was most aston- 
ished when the merman brought him to a 
marble chamber full of heaps of precious 

[ 158 ] 


SOUR AND CIVIL 

stones. There were diamonds there whose 
value the fisherman knew not — pearls larger 
than ever a diver had gathered — emeralds, 
sapphires, and rubies, that would have made 
the jewellers of the world wonder: the mer- 
man then said — 

“‘This is my eldest daughter’s dowry/ 
“‘Good luck attend her!’ said Civil. ‘It 
is the dowry of a queen/ But the merman 
led him on to another chamber: it was filled 
with heaps of gold coin, which seemed gath- 
ered from all times and nations. The images 
and inscriptions of all the kings that ever 
reigned were there; and the merman said — 
“‘This is my second daughter’s dowry/ 
“‘Good luck attend her!’ said Civil. ‘It is 
a dowry for a princess/ 

“‘So you may say,’ replied the merman. 
‘ But make up your mind which of the maid- 
ens you will marry, for the third has no por- 
tion at all, because she is not my daughter; 
but only, as you may see, a poor silly girl 
taken into my family for charity/ 

[ 159 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 
“‘Truly, my lord/ said Civil, whose mind 
was already made up, ‘both your daughters 
are too rich and far too noble for me; there- 
fore I choose the third. Her poverty will best 
become my estate of a poor fisherman/ 

“‘If you choose her/ said the merman, 
‘you must wait long for a wedding. I cannot 
allow an inferior girl to be married before my 
own daughters/ And he said a great deal 
more to persuade him; but Civil would not 
change his mind, and they returned to the 
hall. 

“There was no more attention for the 
fisherman, but everybody watched him well. 
Turn where he would, master or guest had 
their eyes upon him, though he made them 
the best speeches he could remember, and 
praised all their splendours. One thing, how- 
ever, was strange — there was no end to the 
fun and the feasting; nobody seemed tired, 
and nobody thought of sleep. When Civil's 
very eyes closed with weariness, and he slept 
on one of the marble benches — no matter how 
[ 160 ] 


SOUR AND CIVIL 
many hours — there were the company feast- 
ing and dancing away; there were the thou- 
sand lamps within, and the cold moonlight 
without. Civil wished himself back with his 
mother, his net, and his cobbled skiff. Fish- 
ing would have been easier than those ever- 
lasting feasts; but there was nothing else 
among the sea-people — no night of rest, no 
working day. 

“ Civil knew not how time went on, till, 
waking up from a long sleep, he saw, for the 
first time, that the feast was over, and the 
company gone. The lamps still burned, and 
the tables, with all their riches, stood in the 
empty halls ; but there was no face to be 
seen, no sound to be heard, only a low voice 
singing beside the outer door; and there, 
sitting all alone, he found the mild-eyed 
maiden. 

“‘Fair lady,’ said Civil, ‘tell me what 
means this quietness, and where are all the 
merry company ?’ 

“‘You are a man of the land,’ said the lady, 
[ 161 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

‘and know not the sea-people. They never 
sleep but once a year, and that is at Christmas 
time. Then they go into the deep caverns, 
where there is always darkness, and sleep till 
the new year comes/ 

“‘It is a strange fashion/ said Civil; ‘but 
all folks have their way. Fair lady, as you 
and I are to be good friends, tell me, whence 
come all the wines and meats, and gold and 
silver vessels, seeing there are neither corn- 
fields nor flocks here, workmen nor 
artificers ? ” 

“‘The sea-people are heirs of the sea/ re- 
plied the maiden; ‘to them come all the stores 
and riches that are lost in it. I know not the 
ways by which they come; but the lord of 
these halls keeps the keys of seven gates, 
where they go out and in; but one of the 
gates, which has not been open for thrice sev- 
en years, leads to a path under the sea, by 
which, I heard the merman say in his cups, 
one might reach the land. Good fisherman, if 
by chance you gain his favour, and ever open 
[ 162 ] 


SOUR AND CIVIL 

that gate, let me bear you company; for I was 
born where the sun shines and the grass 
grows, though my country and my parents 
are unknown to me. All I remember is sail- 
ing in a great ship, when a storm arose, and it 
was wrecked, and not one soul escaped drown- 
ing but me. I was then a little child, and a 
brave sailor had bound me to a floating plank 
before he was washed away. Here the sea- 
people came round me like great fishes, and I 
went down with them to this rich and weary 
country. Sometimes, as a great favour, they 
take me up with them to see the sun; but that 
is seldom, for they never like to part with one 
who has seen their country; and, fisherman, 
if you ever leave them, remember to take 
nothing with you that belongs to them, for if 
it were but a shell or a pebble, that will give 
them power over you and yours/ 

Thanks for your news, fair lady/ said 
Civil. ‘A lord’s daughter, doubtless, you 
must have been, while I am but a poor fisher- 
man; yet, as we have fallen into the same mis- 

[ 163 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 
fortune, let us be friends, and it may be we 
shall find means to get back to the sunshine 
together.’ 

“‘You are a man of good manners,’ said 
the lady, ‘therefore I accept your friendship; 
but my fear is that we shall never see the sun- 
shine again.’ 

“‘Fair speeches brought me here,’ said 
Civil, ‘and fair speeches may help me back; 
but be sure I will not go without you. ’ ” 

II 

“This promise cheered the lady’s heart, 
and she and Civil spent that Christmas time 
seeing the wonders of the sea country. They 
wandered through caves like that of the 
great merman. The unfinished feast was 
spread in every hall; the tables were covered 
with most costly vessels; and heaps of jewels 
lay on the floors of unlocked chambers. But 
for the lady’s warning, Civil would fain have 
put away some of them for his mother. 

[ i6 4 ] 


SOUR AND CIVIL 

“The poor woman was sad of heart by this 
time, believing her son to be drowned. On 
the first night when he did not come home, 
she had gone down to the sea and watched 
till morning. Then the fishermen steered out 
again, and Sour having found his skiff float- 
ing about, brought it home, saying, the foolish 
young man was doubtless lost; but what bet- 
ter could be expected when he had no discreet 
person to take care of him ? 

“This grieved Dame Civil sore. She 
never expected to see her son again; but, 
feeling lonely in her cottage at the evening 
hour when he used to come home, the good 
woman accustomed herself to go down at sun- 
set and sit beside the sea. That winter hap- 
pened to be mild on the coast of the west coun- 
try, and one evening when the Christmas time 
was near, and the rest of the village prepar- 
ing to make merry, Dame Civil sat, as usual, 
on the sands. The tide was ebbing and the 
sun going down, when from the eastward 
came a lady clad in black, mounted on a black 

[ i6 5 ] 


GRANNT’S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

palfrey, and followed by a squire in the same 
sad clothing. As the lady came near, she 
said — 

“‘Woe is me for my daughter, and for all 
that have lost by the sea ! ’ 

“‘You say well, noble lady/ said Dame 
Civil. ‘Woe is me also for my son, for I have 
none beside him/ 

“When the lady heard that, she alighted 
from her palfrey, and sat down by the fisher- 
man’s mother saying — 

“‘Listen to my story. I was the widow of 
a great lord in the heart of the east country. 
He left me a fair castle, and an only daughter, 
who was the joy of my heart. Her name was 
Faith Feignless; but, while she was yet a child, 
a good fortune-teller told me that my daughter 
would marry a fisherman. I thought this 
would be a great disgrace to my noble family, 
and therefore sent my daughter with her 
nurse in a good ship, bound for a certain city 
where my relations live, intending to follow 
myself as soon as I could get my lands and 
[ 166 ] 


SOUR AND CIVIL 

castles sold. But the ship was wrecked, and 
my daughter drowned; and I have wandered 
over the world with my good Squire Trusty, 
mourning on every shore with those who have 
lost friends by the sea. Some with whom I 
have mourned grew to forget their sorrow, 
and would lament with me no more; others, 
being sour and selfish, mocked me, saying my 
grief was nothing to them: but you have good 
manners, and I will remain with you, however 
humble be your dwelling. My squire car- 
ries gold enough to pay all our charges/ So 
the mourning lady and her good Squire Trus- 
ty went home with Dame Civil, and she was 
no longer lonely in her sorrow, for when the 
dame said — 

“‘Oh, if my son were alive, I should never 
let him go to sea in a cobbled skiff! ’ the lady 
answered — 

“‘Oh, if my daughter were but living, I 
should never think it a disgrace though she 
married a fisherman!’ 

“The Christmas passed as it always does 
[ 167 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

in the west country — shepherds made merry 
on the downs, and fishermen on the shore; 
but when the merrymakings and ringing of 
bells were over in all the land, the sea-people 
woke up to their continual feasts and dances. 
Like one that had forgotten all that was past, 
the merman again showed Civil the chamber 
of gold, and the chamber of jewels, advising 
him to choose between his two daughters; but 
the fisherman still answered that the ladies 
were too noble and far too rich for him. Yet, 
as he looked at the glittering heap, Civil could 
not help recollecting the poverty of the west 
country, and the thought slipped out — 

“‘How happy my old neighbours would be 
to find themselves here!’ 

“‘Say you so?’ said the merman, who al- 
ways wanted visitors. 

‘“Yes/ said Civil, ‘I have neighbours up 
yonder in the west country whom it would be 
hard to send home again if they got sight of 
half this wealth/ and the honest fisherman 
thought of Dame Sour and her son. 

[ 1 68 ] 


SOUR AND CIVIL 

“The merman was greatly delighted with 
these speeches — he thought there was a prob- 
ability of getting many land-people down, and 
by and by said to Civil — 

“‘Suppose you took up a few jewels, and 
went up to tell your poor neighbours how 
welcome we might make them ?’ 

“The prospect of getting back into his 
country rejoiced Civil’s heart, but he had 
promised not to go without the lady, and 
therefore answered prudently what was in- 
deed true — 

“‘Many thanks, my lord, for choosing 
such a humble man as I am to bear your 
message; but the people of the west country 
never believe anything without two witnesses 
at the least; yet, if the poor maid whom I have 
chosen could be permitted to accompany me, 
I think they would believe us both.’ 

“The merman said nothing in reply, but his 
people, who had heard Civil’s speech, talked 
it over among themselves till they grew sure 
that the whole west country would come down, 
[ 169 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

if they only had news of the riches, and peti- 
tioned their lord to send up Civil and the poor 
maid by way of letting them know. 

“ As it seemed for the public good, the great 
merman consented; but, being determined to 
have them back, he gathered out of his treas- 
ure chamber some of the largest pearls and 
diamonds that lay convenient and said — 

“‘Take these as a present from me, to let 
the west-country people see what I can do for 
my visitors/ 

“Civil and the lady took the presents, 
saying — 

“‘Oh, my lord, you are too generous. We 
want nothing but the pleasure of telling of 
your marvellous riches up yonder/ 

“‘Tell everybody to come down, and they 
will get the like,’ said the merman; ‘and fol- 
low my eldest daughter, for she carries the 
key of the land gate/ 

“Civil and the lady followed the mermaid 
through a winding gallery, which led from the 
chief banquet hall far into the marble hill. 

[ ! 7 0 ] 


SOUR AND CIVIL 

All was dark, and they had neither lamp nor 
torch, but at the end of the gallery they came 
to a great stone gate, which creaked like thun- 
der on its hinges. Beyond that there was a 
narrow cave, sloping up and up like a steep 
hillside. Civil and the lady thought they 
would never reach the top; but at last they 
saw a gleam of daylight, then a strip of blue 
sky, and the mermaid bade them stoop and 
creep through what seemed a crevice in the 
ground, and both stood upon the broad sea- 
beach as the day was breaking and the tide 
ebbing fast away. 

“‘Good times to you among your west- 
country people,’ said the mermaid. ‘Tell 
any of them that would like to come down to 
visit us, that they must come here midway be- 
tween the high and low water mark, when the 
tide is going out at morning or evening. Call 
thrice on the sea-people and we will show 
them the way.’ , 

“Before they could make answer she had 
sunk down from their sight, and there was no 

[ 171 ] 


GRAN NT'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

track or passage there, but all was covered by 
the loose sand and sea-shells. 

“‘Now,’ said the lady to Civil, ‘we have 
seen the heavens once more, and we will 
not go back. Cast in the merman’s present 
quickly before the sun rises;’ and, taking the 
bag of pearls and diamonds, she flung it as 
far as she could into the sea. 

“Civil never was so unwilling to part with 
anything as that bag, but he thought it better 
to follow a good example, and tossed his into 
the sea also. They thought they heard a long 
moan come up from the waters; but Civil saw 
his mother’s chimney beginning to smoke, 
and with the fair lady in her sea-green gown 
he hastened to the good dame’s cottage. 

“The whole village were woke up that 
morning with cries of ‘Welcome back, my 
son!’ ‘Welcome back, my daughter!’ for the 
mournful lady knew it was her lost daughter, 
Faith Feignless, whom the fisherman had 
brought back, and all the neighbours assem- 
bled to hear the story. When it was told, 

[ 172 ] 


SOUR AND CIVIL 

everybody praised Civil for the prudence he 
had shown in his difficulties, except Sour and 
his mother; they did nothing but rail upon 
him for losing such great chances for making 
himself and the whole country rich. At last, 
when they heard over and over again of the 
merman’s treasures, neither mother nor son 
would consent to stay any longer in the west 
country; and as nobody persuaded them, and 
they would not take Civil’s direction, Sour 
got out his boat and steered away with his 
mother toward the Merman’s Rock. From 
that voyage they never came back to the ham- 
let. Some say they went down and lived 
among the sea-people; others say — I know 
not how they learned it — that Sour and his 
mother grumbled and growled so much that 
even the sea-people grew weary of them, and 
turned them and their boat out on the open 
sea. What part of the world they chose 
to land on, nobody is certain; by all ac- 
counts they have been seen everywhere, and I 
should not be surprised if they were in this 

li 173 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

good company. As for Civil he married 
Faith Feignless, and became a great lord.” 

Here the voice ceased, and two that were 
clad in sea-green silk, with coronets of pearls, 
rose up, and said — 

“ That’s our story.” 

“Oh, mamma, if we could get down to that 
country!” said Princess Greedalind. 

“And bring all the treasures back with us!” 
answered Queen Wantall. 

“Except the tale of yesterday, and the four 
that went before it, I have not heard such a 
story since my brother Wisewit went from me, 
and was lost in the forest,” said King Win- 
wealth. “ Readyrein, the second of my pages, 
rise, and bring this maiden a purple velvet 
mantle.” 

The mantle was brought, and Snowflower 
having thanked the king, went down upon 
her grandmother’s chair; but that night the 
little girl went no farther than the lowest ban- 
quet hall, where she was bidden to stay and 

c 174] 


SOUR AND CIVIL 

share the feast, and sleep hard by in a wain- 
scot chamber. That she was well entertained 
there is no doubt, for King Winwealth had 
been heard to say that it was not clear to him 
how he could have got through the seven days* 
feast without her grandmother’s chair and its 
stories. But next day being the last of the 
seven, things were gayer than ever in the pal- 
ace. The music had never been so merry, 
the dishes so rich, or the wines so rare; neither 
had the clamours at the gate ever been so loud, 
nor the disputes and envies so many in the 
halls. 

Perhaps it was these doings that brought 
the low spirits earlier than usual on King 
Winwealth, for after dinner His Majesty fell 
into them so deeply that a message came down 
from the highest banquet hall, and the cup- 
bearer told Snowflower to go up with her 
chair, for King Winwealth wished to hear an- 
other story. 

Now the little girl put on all her finery, 
from the pink shoes to the purple mantle, and 

[ 175 ] 


GRANNY 9 S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

went up in her chair, looking so like a princess 
that the whole company rose to welcome her. 
But when she had made her courtesy, and 
laid down her head, saying, “ Chair of my 
grandmother, tell me a story,” the clear voice 
from under the cushion answered — 

“ Listen to the story of Merrymind.” 



THE STORY OF MERRY MIND 


* 



THE STORY OF MERRYMIND 

“ A^VNCE upon a time there lived in the 
B m north country a certain poor man 
and his wife, who had two corn- 
fields, three cows, five sheep, and thirteen chil- 
dren. Twelve of these children were called 
by names common in the north country — 
Hardhead, Stiffneck, Tightfingers, and the 
like; but when the thirteenth come to be 
named, either the poor man and his wife 
could remember no other name, or something 
in the child’s look made them think it proper, 
for they called him Merrymind, which the 
neighbours thought a strange name, and very 

[ 177 ] 


GRAN NT'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

much above their station: however, as they 
showed no other signs of pride, the neighbours 
let that pass. Their thirteen children grew 
taller and stronger every year, and they had 
hard work to keep them in bread; but when 
the youngest was old enough to look after his 
father’s sheep, there happened the great fair, 
to which everybody in the north country 
went, because it came only once in seven 
years, and was held on midsummer-day, — 
not in any town or village, but on a green 
plain, lying between a broad river and a high 
hill, where it was said the fairies used to 
dance in old and merry times. 

“Merchants and dealers of all sorts crowd- 
ed to that fair from far and near. There 
was nothing known in the north country that 
could not be bought or sold in it, and neither 
old nor young were willing to go home without 
a fairing. The poor man who owned this 
large family could afford them little to spend 
in such ways; but, as the fair happened only 
once in seven years, he would not show a poor 

[ 178 ] 


THE STORY OF MERRYMIND 

spirit. Therefore, calling them about him, 
he opened the leathern bag in which his sav- 
ings were stored, and gave every one of the 
thirteen a silver penny. 

“The boys and girls had never before 
owned so much pocket-money; and, wonder- 
ing what they should buy, they dressed them- 
selves in their holiday clothes, and set out 
with their father and mother to the fair. 
When they came near the ground that mid- 
summer morning, the stalls, heaped up with 
all manner of merchandise, from gingerbread 
upwards, the tents for fun and feasting, the 
puppet-shows, the rope-dancers, and the 
crowd of neighbours and strangers, all in 
their best attire, made those simple people 
think their north country fair the finest sight 
in the world. The day wore away in seeing 
wonders, and in chatting with old friends. 
It was surprising how far silver pennies went 
in those days; but before evening twelve of 
the thirteen had got fairly rid of their 
money. One bought a pair of brass buckles, 

[ 179 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

another a crimson riband, a third green 
garters; the father bought a tobacco-pipe, 
the mother a horn snuffbox — in short, all 
had provided themselves with fairings except 
Merrymind. 

“The cause of the silver penny remaining 
in his pocket was that he had set his heart 
upon a fiddle; and fiddles enough there were 
in the fair — small and large, plain and paint- 
ed: he looked at and priced the most of them, 
but there was not one that came within the 
compass of a silver penny. His father and 
mother warned him to make haste with his 
purchase, for they must all go home at sunset, 
because the way was long. 

“The sun was getting low and red upon the 
hill; the fair was growing thin, for many 
dealers had packed up their stalls and de- 
parted; but there was a mossy hollow in the 
great hillside, to which the outskirts of the 
fair had reached, and Merrymind thought he 
would see what might be there. The first 
thing was a stall of fiddles, kept by a young 

[ 180] 


THE STORE OF MERRYMIND 

merchant from a far country, who had many 
customers, his goods being fine and new; but 
hard by sat a little grey-haired man, at whom 
everybody had laughed that day, because he 
had nothing on his stall but one old dingy 
fiddle, and all its strings were broken. Never- 
theless the little man sat as stately and cried 
‘Fiddles to sell!’ as if he had the best stall in 
the fair. 

“ ‘ Buy a fiddle, my young master ? ’ he said, 
as Merrymind came forward. ‘You shall 
have it cheap: I ask but a silver penny for it; 
and if the strings were mended, its like would 
not be in the north country/ 

“Merrymind thought this a great bargain. 
He was a handy boy, and could mend the 
strings while watching his father’s sheep. So 
down went the silver penny on the little man’s 
stall, and up went the fiddle under Merry- 
mind’s arm. 

“‘Now, my young master,’ said the little 
man, ‘you see that we merchants have a deal 
to look after, and if you help me to bundle 

[ 181 ] 


GRANNT’S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

up my stall, I will tell you a wonderful piece 
of news about that fiddle/ 

“Merrymind was good-natured and fond 
of news, so he helped him to tie up the loose 
boards and sticks that composed his stall with 
an old rope, and, when they were hoisted on 
his back like a fagot, the little man said — 
“‘About that fiddle, my young master: it 
is certain the strings can never be mended, 
nor made new, except by threads from the 
night-spinners, which, if you get, it will be a 
good pennyworth;’ and up the hill he ran like 
a greyhound. 

“Merrymind thought that was queer news, 
but, being given to hope the best, he believed 
the little man was only jesting, and made 
haste to join the rest of the family, who were 
soon on their way home. When they got 
there everyone showed his bargain, and Mer- 
rymind showed his fiddle; but his brothers 
and sisters laughed at him for buying such a 
thing when he had never learned to play. 
His sisters asked him what music he could 

[ 18*] 


THE STORY OF MERRYMIND 

bring out of broken strings; and his father 
said — 

“‘Thou hast shown little prudence in lay- 
ing out thy first penny, from which token I 
fear thou wilt never have many to lay out.’ 

“In short, everybody threw scorn on Mer- 
rymind’s bargain, except his mother. She, 
good woman, said if he laid out one penny ill, 
he might lay out the next better: and who 
knew but his fiddle would be of use some day ? 
To make her words good, Merrymind fell to 
repairing the strings — he spent all his time, 
both night and day, upon them; but, true to 
the little man’s parting words, no mending 
would stand, and no string would hold on 
that fiddle. Merrymind tried everything, and 
wearied himself to no purpose. At last he 
thought of inquiring after people who spun at 
night; and this seemed such a good joke to the 
north-country people, that they wanted no 
other till the next fair. 

“In the meantime Merrymind lost credit 
at home and abroad. Everybody believed in 

[ 183] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

his father's prophecy; his brothers and sisters 
valued him no more than a herd-boy; the 
neighbours thought he must turn out a scape- 
grace. Still the boy would not part with his 
fiddle. It was his silver pennyworth, and he 
had a strong hope of mending the strings for 
all that had come and gone; but since nobody 
at home cared for him except his mother, and 
as she had twelve other children, he resolved 
to leave the scorn behind him, and go and seek 
his fortune. 

“The family were not very sorry to hear of 
that intention, being in a manner ashamed 
of him; besides, they could spare one out of 
thirteen. His father gave him a barley cake, 
and his mother her blessing. All his brothers 
and sisters wished him well. Most of the 
neighbours hoped no harm would happen to 
him; and Merrymind set out one summer 
morning with the broken-stringed fiddle un- 
der his arm. 

“There were no highways then in the north 
country — people took whatever path pleased 

[ i8 4 ] 


THE STORY OF MERRYMIND 

them best; so Merrymind went over the fair 
ground and up the hill, hoping to meet the 
little man, and learn something of the night- 
spinners. The hill was covered with heather 
to the top, and he went up without meeting 
anyone. On the other side it was steep and 
rocky, and, after a hard scramble down, he 
came to a narrow glen all overgrown with 
wild furze and brambles. Merrymind had 
never met with briars so sharp, and he was 
not the boy to turn back readily, and pressed 
on in spite of torn clothes and scratched 
hands, till he came to the end of the glen, 
where two paths met: one of them wound 
through a pine wood, he knew not how far, 
but it seemed green and pleasant. The other 
was a rough stony way leading to a wide val- 
ley surrounded by high hills, and overhung by 
a dull, thick mist, though it was yet early in 
the summer evening. 

“ Merrymind was weary with his long jour- 
ney, and stood thinking of what path to 
choose when, by the way of the valley, there 

[ 185 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

came an old man as tall and large as any 
three men of the north country. His white 
hair and beard hung like tangled flax about 
him; his clothes were made of sackcloth; and 
on his back he carried a heavy burden of dust 
heaped high in a great pannier. 

Listen to me, you lazy vagabond!’ he 
said, coming near to Merrymind : ‘if you take 
the way through the wood I know not what 
will happen to you; but if you choose this path 
you must help me with my pannier, and I can 
tell you it’s no trifle.’ 

‘“Well, father,’ said Merrymind, ‘you 
seem tired, and I am younger than you, 
though not quite so tall; so, if you please, I 
will choose this way, and help you along with 
the pannier.’ 

“Scarce had he spoken when the huge 
man caught hold of him, firmly bound one 
side of the pannier to his shoulders with the 
same strong rope that fastened it on his own 
back, and never ceased scolding and calling 
him names as they marched over the stony 
[ 186 ] 


THE STORY OF MERRYMIND 

ground together. It was a rough way and a 
heavy burden, and Merrymind wished him- 
self a thousand times out of the old man’s 
company, but there was no getting off; and, 
at length, in hopes of beguiling the way, and 
putting him in better humour, he began to sing 
an old rhyme which his mother had taught 
him. By this time they had entered the val- 
ley, and the night had fallen very dark and 
cold. The old man ceased scolding, and by a 
feeble glimmer of the moonlight, which now 
began to shine, Merrymind saw that they 
were close by a deserted cottage, for its door 
stood open to the night winds. Here the old 
man paused, and loosed the rope from his own 
and Merrymind’s shoulders. 

“‘For seven times seven years,’ he said, 
‘have I carried this pannier, and no one ever 
sang while helping me before. Night releases 
all men, so I release you. Where will you 
sleep — by my kitchen fire, or in that cold cot- 
tage ? ’ 

“Merrymind thought he had got quite 

[ 187 ] 


GRAN NT'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

enough of the old man’s society, and there- 
fore answered — 

“‘The cottage, good father, if you please.’ 

“‘A sound sleep to you then!’ said the old 
man, and he went off with his pannier. 

“Merrymind stepped into the deserted cot- 
tage. The moon was shining through door 
and window, for the mist was gone, and the 
night looked clear as day; but in all the valley 
he could hear no sound, nor was there any 
trace of inhabitants in the cottage. The 
hearth looked as if there had not been a fire 
there for years. A single article of furniture 
was not to be seen; but Merrymind was sore 
weary, and laying himself down in a corner, 
with his fiddle close by, he fell fast asleep. 

“The floor was hard, and his clothes were 
thin, but all through his sleep there came a 
sweet sound of singing voices and spinning- 
wheels, and Merrymind thought he must have 
been dreaming when he opened his eyes next 
morning on the bare and solitary house. The 
beautiful night was gone, and the heavy mist 
[ 188 ] 


THE STORY OF MERRY MIND 

had come back. There was no blue sky, no 
bright sun to be seen. The light was cold 
and grey, like that of mid-winter; but Merry- 
mind ate the half of his barley cake, drank 
from a stream hard by, and went out to see 
the valley. 

“It was full of inhabitants, and they were 
all busy in houses, in fields, in mills, and in 
forges. The men hammered and delved; 
the women scrubbed and scoured; the very 
children were hard at work: but Merrymind 
could hear neither talk nor laughter among 
them. Every face looked careworn and 
cheerless, and every word was something 
about work or gain. 

“Merrymind thought this unreasonable, 
for everybody there appeared rich. The 
women scrubbed in silk, the men delved in 
scarlet. Crimson curtains, marble floors, and 
shelves of silver tankards were to be seen 
in every house; but their owners took neither 
ease nor pleasure in them, and everyone 
laboured as if it were for life. 

[ 189 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

“The birds of that valley did not sing — 
they were too busy pecking and building. 
The cats did not lie by the fire — they were all 
on the watch for mice. The dogs went 
out after hares on their own account. The 
cattle and sheep grazed as if they were 
never to get another mouthful; and the 
herdsmen were all splitting wood or making 
baskets. 

“In the midst of the valley there stood a 
stately castle, but, instead of parks and gar- 
dens, brew-houses and washing-greens lay 
round it. The gates stood open, and Mer- 
rymind ventured in. The courtyard was 
full of coopers. They were churning in the 
banquet hall. They were making cheese on 
the dais, and spinning and weaving in all its 
principal chambers. In the highest tower of 
that busy castle, at a window from which she 
could see the whole valley, there sat a noble 
lady. Her dress was rich, but of a dingy drab 
colour. Her hair was iron-grey; her look was 
sour and gloomy. Round her sat twelve 

[ 190 ] 


THE STORY OF MERRYMIND 

maidens of the same aspect, spinning on an- 
cient distaffs, and the lady spun as hard as 
they, but all the yarn they made was jet- 
black. 

“No one in or out of the castle would reply 
to Merrymind’s salutations, nor answer him 
any questions. The rich men pulled out 
their purses, saying, ‘Come and work for 
wages!’ The poor men said, ‘We have no 
time to talk!’ A cripple by the wayside 
wouldn’t answer him, he was so busy begging; 
and a child by a cottage door said it must go to 
work. All day Merrymind wandered about 
with his broken-stringed fiddle, and all day he 
saw the great old man marching round and 
round the valley with his heavy burden of 
dust. 

“‘It is the dreariest valley that ever I be- 
held!’ he said to himself, ‘and no place to 
mend my fiddle in; but one would not like to 
go away without knowing what has come over 
the people, or if they have always worked so 
hard and heavily.’” 

[ 191 ] 


GRANNT’S WONDERFUL CHAIR 


II 

“ By this time the night again came on : he 
knew it by the clearing mist and the rising 
moon. The people began to hurry home in 
all directions. Silence came over house and 
field; and near the deserted cottage Merry- 
mind met the old man. 

‘“Good father/ he said, ‘I pray you tell me 
what sport or pastime have the people of this 
valley ? ’ 

‘“Sport and pastime!’ cried the old man, 
in great wrath. ‘Where did you hear of the 
like ? We work by day, and sleep by night. 
There is no sport in Dame Dreary’s land!’ 
and, with a hearty scolding for his idleness 
and levity, he left Merrymind to sleep once 
more in the cottage. 

“That night the boy did not sleep so sound : 
though too drowsy to open his eyes, he was 
sure there had been singing and spinning near 
him all night; and, resolving to find out what 
this meant before he left the valley, Merry- 

[ 192 ] 


THE STORY OF MERRYMIND 

mind ate the other half of the barley cake, 
drank again from the stream, and went out 
to see the country. 

“The same heavy mist shut out sun and 
sky; the same hard work went [forward wher- 
ever he turned his eyes; and the great old man 
with the dust-pannier strode on his accus- 
tomed round. Merrymind could find no one 
to answer a single question; rich and poor 
wanted him to work still more earnestly than 
the day before; and, fearing that some of 
them might press him into service, he wan- 
dered away to the farthest end of the valley. 

“There there was no work, for the land lay 
bare and lonely, and was bounded by grey 
crags, as high and steep as any castle wall. 
There was no passage or outlet but through a 
great iron gate, secured with a heavy pad- 
lock : close by it stood a white tent, and in the 
door a tall soldier, with one arm, stood smo- 
king a long pipe. He was the first idle man 
Merrymind had seen in the valley, and his 
face looked to him like that of a friend ; so, 

[ 193 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

coming up with his best bow, the boy 
said — 

“‘Honourable master soldier, please to tell 
me what country is this, and why do the peo- 
ple work so hard ?’ 

“‘Are you a stranger in this place, that you 
ask such questions ?’ answered the soldier. 

‘“Yes/ said Merrymind; ‘I came but the 
evening before yesterday/ 

“‘Then I am sorry for you, for here you 
must remain. My orders are to let every- 
body in and nobody out; and the giant with 
the dust-pannier guards the other entrance 
night and day/ said the soldier. 

‘“That is bad news/ said Merrymind; 
‘but since I am here, please to tell me why 
were such laws made, and what is the story of 
this valley 

“‘Hold my pipe, and I will tell you/ said 
the soldier, ‘for nobody else will take the 
time. This valley belongs to the lady of 
yonder castle, whom, for seven times seven 
years, men have called Dame Dreary. She 

[ 194 ] 


THE STORE OF MERRTMIND 

had another name in her youth — they called 
her Lady Littlecare; and then the valley was 
the fairest spot in all the north country. The 
sun shone brightest there; the summers lin- 
gered longest. Fairies danced on the hill- 
tops; singing-birds sat on all the trees. Strong- 
arm, the last of the giants, kept the pine for- 
est, and hewed yule logs out of it, when he was 
not sleeping in the sun. Two fair maidens, 
clothed in white, with silver wheels on their 
shoulders, came by night, and spun golden 
threads by the hearth of every cottage. The 
people wore homespun, and drank out of 
horn; but they had merry times. There were 
May-games, harvest-homes, and Christmas 
cheer among them. Shepherds piped on the 
hillsides, reapers sang in the fields, and laugh- 
ter came with the red firelight out of every 
house in the evening. All that was changed, 
nobody knows how, for the old folks who re- 
membered it are dead. Some say it was be- 
cause of a magic ring which fell from the 
lady’s finger; some because of a spring in the 

t J 95 ] 


GRANNT’S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

castle court which went dry. However it 
was, the lady turned Dame Dreary. Hard 
work and hard times overspread the valley. 
The mist came down; the fairies departed; 
the giant Strongarm grew old, and took up a 
burden of dust; and the night-spinners were 
seen no more in any man’s dwelling. They 
say it will be so till Dame Dreary lays down 
her distaff, and dances; but all the fiddlers of 
the north country have tried their merriest 
tunes to no purpose. The king is a wise 
prince and a great warrior. He has filled 
two treasure houses and conquered all his 
enemies; but he cannot change the order of 
Dame Dreary’s land. I cannot tell you what 
great rewards he offered to any one who 
could do it; but when no good came of his 
offers, the king feared that similar fashions 
might spread among his people, and there- 
fore made a law that whomsoever entered 
should not leave it. His Majesty took me 
captive in war, and placed me here to keep 
the gate, and save his subjects trouble. If I 

[ 196] 


msmm 



By the fireless hearth there sat two fair maidens 
spinning 





































































































































THE STORY OF MERRYMIND 

had not brought my pipe with me, I should 
have been working as hard as any of them by 
this time, with my one arm. Young master, 
if you take my advice, you will learn to smoke/ 

“‘If my fiddle were mended it would be 
better,’ said Merrymind; and he sat talking 
with the soldier till the mist began to gather 
and the moon to rise, and then went home to 
sleep in the deserted cottage. 

“It was late when he came near it, and the 
moonlight night looked lovely beside the mis- 
ty day. Merrymind thought it was a good 
time for trying to get out of the valley. There 
was no foot abroad, and no appearance of the 
giant; but as Merrymind drew near to where 
the two paths met, there was he fast asleep 
beside a fire of pine-cones, with his pannier at 
his head, and a heap of stones close by him. 
‘Is that your kitchen fire ?’ thought the boy 
to himself, and he tried to steal past; but 
Strongarm started up, and pursued him with 
stones, and calling him bad names, half-way 
back to the cottage. 

[ 197 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

“Merrymind was glad to run the whole 
way for fear of him. The door was still open, 
and the moon was shining in; but by the fire- 
less hearth there sat two fair maidens, all in 
white, spinning on silver wheels, and singing 
together a blithe and pleasant tune, like the 
larks on May morning. Merrymind could 
have listened all night, but suddenly he be- 
thought him that these must be the night- 
spinners, whose threads would mend his 
fiddle; so, stepping with reverence and good 
courage, he said — 

“‘ Honourable ladies, I pray you give 
a poor boy a thread to mend his fiddle- 
strings/ 

“‘For seven times seven years,’ said the 
fair maidens, have we spun by night in this 
deserted cottage, and no mortal has seen or 
spoken to us. Go and gather sticks through 
all the valley to make a fire for us on this cold 
hearth, and each of us will give you a thread 
for your pains.’ 

“Merrymind took his broken fiddle with 

[ 198 ] 


THE STORY OF MERRYMIND 

him, and went through all the valley gather- 
ing sticks by the moonlight; but so careful 
were the people of Dame Dreary’s lands, that 
scarce a stick could be found, and the moon 
was gone, and the misty day had come before 
he was able to come back with a small fagot. 
The cottage door was still open; the fair 
maidens and their silver wheels were gone; 
but on the floor where they sat lay two long 
threads of gold. 

“Merrymind first heaped up his fagot on 
the hearth, to be ready against their coming 
at night, and next took up the golden threads 
to mend his fiddle. Then he learned the 
truth of the little man’s saying at the fair, for 
no sooner were the strings fastened with those 
golden threads than they became firm. The 
old dingy fiddle too began to shine and glisten, 
and at length it was golden also. This sight 
made Merrymind so joyful, that, unlearned 
as he was in music, the boy tried to play. 
Scarce had his bow touched the strings when 
they began to play of themselves the same 

[ 199 ] 


GRAN NT'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

blithe and pleasant tune which the night- 
spinners sang together. 

“‘Some of the workers will stop for the 
sake of this tune/ said Merrymind, and he 
went out along the valley with his fiddle. The 
music filled the air; the busy people heard it; 
and never was such a day seen in Dame 
Dreary’s land. The men paused in their 
delving; the women stopped their scrubbing; 
the little children dropped their work; and ev- 
eryone stood still in their places while Merry- 
mind and his fiddle passed on. When he 
came to the castle, the coopers cast down their 
tools in the court; the churning and cheese- 
making ceased in the banquet hall; the looms 
and spinning-wheels stopped in the principal 
chambers; and Dame Dreary’s distaff stood 
still in her hand. 

“Merrymind played through the halls and 
up the tower stairs. As he came near, the 
dame cast down her distaff, and danced with 
all her might. All her maidens did the like; 
and as they danced she grew young again — 
[ 200 ] 


THE STORY OF MERRYMIND 

the sourness passed from her looks, and the 
greyness from her hair. They brought her 
the dress of white and cherry colour she used 
to wear in her youth, and she was no longer 
Dame Dreary, but the Lady Littlecare, with 
golden hair, and laughing eyes, and cheeks 
like summer roses. 

“Then a sound of merrymaking came up 
from the whole valley. The heavy mist rolled 
away over the hills; the sun shone out; the 
blue sky was seen; a clear spring gushed up 
in the castle court; a white falcon came from 
the east with a golden ring, and put it on the 
lady’s finger. After that Strongarm broke 
the rope, tossed the pannier of dust from his 
shoulder, and lay down to sleep in the sun. 
That night the fairies danced on the hill- 
tops; and the night-spinners, with their silver 
wheels, were seen by every hearth, and no 
more in the deserted cottage. Everybody 
praised Merrymind and his fiddle; and when 
news of his wonderful playing came to the 
king’s ears, he commanded the iron gate to be 
[ 201 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

taken away; he made the captive soldier a free 
man; and promoted Merrymind to be his first 
fiddler, which, under that wise monarch, was 
the highest post in the kingdom. 

“As soon as Merrymind’s family and 
neighbours heard of the high preferment his 
fiddle had gained for him, they thought music 
must be a good thing, and man, woman, and 
child took to fiddling. It is said that none of 
them ever learned to play a single tune except 
Merrymind’s mother, on whom her son be- 
stowed great presents.” 

Here the voice ceased, and one clothed in 
green and russet-coloured velvet rose up with 
a golden fiddle in his hand and said — 

“That’s my story.” 

“Excepting yesterday’s tale, and the five 
that went before it,” said King Winwealth, 
“I have not heard such a story as that since 
my brother Wisewit went from me, and was 
lost in the forest. Fairfortune, the first of 
my pages, go and bring this maiden a golden 
[ 202 ] 


THE STORY OF MERRYMIND 

girdle. And, since her grandmother’s chair 
can tell such stories, she shall go no more 
into low company, but feast with us in our 
chief banquet hall, and sleep in one of the 
best chambers of the palace!” 


t 












PRINCE WISE WIT’S RETURN 






PRINCE WISEWITS RETURN 

S NOWFLOWER was delighted at the 
promise of feasting with those noble 
lords and ladies, whose wonderful 
stories she had heard from the chair. Her 
courtesy was twice as low as usual, and she 
thanked King Winwealth from the bottom of 
her heart. All the company were glad to 
make room for her, and when her golden 
girdle was put on, little Snowflower looked 
as fine as the best of them. 

“Mamma,” whispered the Princess Greed- 
alind, while she looked ready to cry for spite, 
“only see that low little girl who came here in 
a coarse frock and barefooted, what finery 
[ 205 ] 


GRANNT'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

and favour she has gained by her story-telling 
chair! All the court are praising her and 
overlooking me, though the feast was made in 
honour of my birthday. Mamma, I must 
have that chair from her. What business 
has a common little girl with anything so 
amusing ?” 

“So you shall, my daughter/’ said Queen 
Wantall — for by this time she saw that King 
Winwealth had, according to custom, fallen 
asleep on the throne. So, calling two of her 
pages, Screw and Hardhands, she ordered 
them to bring the chair from the other end of 
the hall where Snowflower sat, and directly 
made it a present to Princess Greedalind. 

Nobody in that court ever thought of dis- 
puting Queen Wantall’s commands, and poor 
Snowflower sat down to cry in a corner; while 
Princess Greedalind, putting on what she 
thought a very grand air, laid down her head 
on the cushion saying — 

“Chair of my grandmother, tell me a story.” 

“Where did you get a grandmother?” 

[ 206 ] 



Prince Wisewit went home leading Snowflower by 
the hand 








PRINCE WISEWITS RETURN 

cried the clear voice from under the cushion; 
and up went the chair with such force as to 
throw Princess Greedalind off on the floor, 
where she lay screaming, a good deal more 
angry than hurt. 

All the courtiers tried in vain to comfort 
her. But Queen Wantall, whose temper was 
still worse, vowed that she would punish the 
impudent thing, and sent for Sturdy, her chief 
woodman, to chop it up with his axe. 

At the first stroke the cushion was cut open, 
and, to the astonishment of everybody, a bird, 
whose snow-white feathers were tipped with 
purple, darted out and flew away through an 
open window. 

“Catch it! catch it!” cried the queen and 
the princess; and all but King Winwealth, 
who still slept on the throne, rushed out after 
the bird. It flew over the palace garden and 
into a wild common, where houses had been 
before Queen Wantall pulled them down to 
search for a gold mine, which Her Majesty 
never found, though three deep pits were dug 
[ 207 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

to come at it. To make the place look smart 
at the feast time these pits had been covered 
over with loose boughs and turf. All the 
rest of the company remembered this but 
Queen Wantall and Princess Greedalind. 
They were nearest to the bird, and poor Snow- 
flower, by running hard, came close behind 
them; but Fairfortune, the king’s first page, 
drew her back by the purple mantle, when, 
coming to the covered pit, boughs and turf 
gave way, and down went the queen and the 
princess. 

Everybody looked for the bird, but it was 
nowhere to be seen; but on the common where 
they saw it alight there stood a fair and royal 
prince, clad in a robe of purple and a crown of 
changing colours, for sometimes it seemed of 
gold and sometimes of forest leaves. 

Most of the courtiers stood not knowing 
what to think, but all the fairy people and all 
the lords and ladies of the chair’s stories knew 
him, and cried, “Welcome to Prince Wise- 
wit!” 


[208 ] 


PRINCE WISE WITS RETURN 

King Winwealth heard that sound where 
he slept, and came out glad of heart to wel- 
come back his brother. When the lord high 
chamberlain and her own pages came out 
with ropes and lanthorns to search for Queen 
Wantall and Princess Greedalind, they found 
them safe and well at the bottom of the pit, 
having fallen on a heap of loose sand. The 
pit was of great depth, but some daylight 
shone down, and, whatever were the yellow 
grains they saw glittering among the sand, 
the queen and the princess believed it was' full 
of gold. 

They called the miners false knaves, lazy 
rogues, and a score of bad names beside, for 
leaving so much wealth behind them, and ut- 
terly refused to come out of the pit; saying, 
that since Prince Wisewit was come, they 
could find no pleasure in the palace, but 
would stay there and dig for gold, and buy the 
world with it for themselves. King Win- 
wealth thought the plan was a good one for 
keeping peace in his palace. He commanded 
[ 209 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

shovels and picks to be lowered to the queen 
and the princess. The two pages, Screw and 
Hardhands, went down to help them, in hopes 
of halving the profits, and there they stayed, 
digging for gold. Some of the courtiers said 
they would find it; others believed they never 
could; and the gold was not found when this 
story was written. 

As for Prince Wisewit, he went home with 
the rest of the company, leading Snowflower 
by the hand, and telling them all how he had 
been turned into a bird by the cunning fairy 
Fortunetta, who found him off his guard in 
the forest; how she had shut him up under the 
cushion of that curious chair, and given it to 
old Dame Frostyface; and how all his com- 
fort had been in little Snowflower, to whom he 
told so many stories. 

King Winwealth was so rejoiced to find his 
brother again, that he commanded another 
feast to be held for seven days. All that time 
the gates of the palace stood open; all comers 
were welcome all complaints heard. The 
[ 210 ] 


PRINCE W1SEWITS RETURN 

houses and lands which Queen Wantall had 
taken away were restored to their rightful 
owners. Everybody got what they most 
wanted. There were no more clamours with- 
out nor discontents within the palace; and on 
the seventh day of the feast who should arrive 
but Dame Frostyface, in her grey hood and 
mantle. 

Snowflower was right glad to see her grand- 
mother — so were the king and prince, for they 
had known the dame in her youth. They 
kept the feast for seven days more; and when 
it was ended, everything was right in the king- 
dom. King Winwealth and Prince Wisewit 
reigned once more together; and because 
Snowflower was the best girl in all that coun- 
try, they chose her to be their heiress, instead 
of Princess Greedalind. From that day for- 
ward she wore white velvet and satin; she had 
seven pages, and lived in the grandest part of 
the palace. Dame Frostyface, too, was made 
a great lady. They put a new velvet cushion 
on her chair, and she sat in a gown of grey 
[ 211 ] 


GRANNT’S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

cloth, edged with gold, spinning on an ivory 
wheel in a fine painted parlour. Prince Wise- 
wit built a great summer-house, covered with 
vines and roses, on the spot where her old cot- 
tage stood. He also made a highway through 
the forest, that all good people might come 
and go there at their leisure; and the cunning 
fairy Fortunetta, finding that her reign was 
over in those parts, set off on a journey round 
the world, and did not return in the time of 
this story. Good boys and girls, who may 
chance to read it, that time is long ago. Great 
wars, work, and learning have passed over the 
world since then, and altered all its fashions. 
Kings make no seven-day feasts for all com- 
ers now. Queens and princesses, however 
greedy, do not mine for gold. Chairs tell no 
tales. Wells work no wonders; and there are 
no such doings on hills and forests, for the 
fairies dance no more. Some say it was the 
hum of schools, some think it was the din of 
factories, that frightened them; but nobody 
has been known to have seen them for many a 
[ 212 ] 


PRINCE WISE WITS RETURN 

year, except, it is said, one Hans Christian 
Andersen, in Denmark, whose tales of the 
fairies are so good that they must have been 
heard from themselves. 

It is certain that no living man knows 
the subsequent history of King Winwealth’s 
country, nor what became of all the notable 
characters who lived and visited at his palace. 
Yet there are people who believe that the 
monarch still falls asleep on his throne, and 
into low spirits after supper; that Queen 
Wantall and Princess Greedalind have found 
the gold and begun to buy; that Dame Fros- 
tyface yet spins — they cannot tell where; that 
Snowflower may still be seen at the new year’s 
time in her dress of white velvet, looking out 
for the early spring; that Prince Wisewit has 
somehow fallen under a stronger spell and a 
thicker cushion; that he still tells stories to 
Snowflower and her friends; and when both 
cushion and spell are broken by another 
stroke of Sturdy’s hatchet — which they ex- 
pect will happen some time — the prince will 
[ 2!3 ] 


GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR 

make all things right again and bring back 
the fairy times to the world. 



the McClure press, 


O R K 


RECENT 

PUBLICATIONS 

of 

Itps & Co. 

r f 


1904 




%. 221 b- Crossianh 

The third issue of this successful book 

McCLURE’S 

CHILDREN’S ANNUAL FOR 1905 

r 

A BOOK for the nursery people, stuffed full 
of simple stories, pictures, and bright colors. 
The best artists of England have contributed 
and the best writers of stories of childhood. 
There are fairy-stories, stories of nursery ad- 
ventures, stories of dolls and animals, stories 
of the daily wonders of nature, told in a brief, 
simple way, sure to delight the mind of a child. 
The print is big enough for the school-going 
nursery members to read it easily themselves. 
The book is a fine revival of the Christmas an- 
nual, which was such an institution with this 
generation’s grown folk in their nursery days. 
It is in its third year, and each time the edition 
has proved too small for the demand. This 
is a book to remember at Christmas time. 

Appropriate nursery cover-design in bright cretonne. 
Square 8vo. $1.50 

SgRClure, Phillips & Co. 



T5v jftances i^otigsonBurnett 


Author of “Little Lord Fauntleroy” 

IN THE CLOSED ROOM 

r 

A FAIRY story in real life; a glimpse of a 
child’s heart and mind, such as the author of 
“Little Lord Fauntleroy” always gives with 
such sympathy and understanding. It is a 
strange and fanciful tale of the little daughter 
of a New York janitor and of a locked room 
in the empty house they were occupying, which 
opened at her touch. It tells of the mysterious 
little visitor who came and showed her how to 
play with all the beautiful toys she discovered 
there, and of how at length the two, hand-in- 
hand, entered a beautiful and mysterious 
flower-strewn garden and found wonderful hap- 
piness there. The story is half of the spirit 
world and half of this. It might almost be 
called a fairy ghost story. The many delightful 
illustrations in color by Miss Smith have admi- 
rably caught the fanciful and spiritual quality 
of the story. 

With eight pictures in four colors, by Jessie Willcox Smith. 

Decorations and end-papers, etc. 

$1.50 


9@cClure, Phillips & Co. 


Bp <Bup fl^letmore Carrpl 


Author of “ Grave Tales Made Gay” 

FAR FROM THE MADDENING 
GIRLS 


r 


A WARNING to bachelors. The hero of 
this book was so sure that he wanted to remain 
a bachelor and should remain a bachelor, that 
he built himself a bacheloric abode, “Shingle 
Blessedness,” purposely lacking in such femi- 
nine necessities and fripperies as looking- 
glasses, closets, etc. It happened that there 
lived within about a mile of his new home a 
young lady. She was a clever young lady. It 
happened that she took an interest in the build- 
ing of the house. It happened also — really, so 
many things happened in which the young man 
and the young lady were involved, that it is best 
to let Mr. Carryl tell you about them in his own 
entertaining way. 

You will enjoy his philosophizing and his 
clever playing with words and his witty dia- 
logue quite as much as the main story. And, 
by the way, something happened towards the 
end that the owner of Shingle Blessedness did 
not expect, nor did the girl, and possibly it will 
be a surprise to you. 


$1.50 


QPcClure, Philips & Co. 



George flpa&hen Martin 

Author of “Emmy Lou” 

THE HOUSE OF FULFILMENT 

r 

A LOVE story in which the leading traits of 
Southern and Northern character furnish the 
basis for the complications of the plot. The 
scene is chiefly laid in Louisville, Ky., around 
the time of the Civil War. In the opening 
chapters of the book Mrs. Martin introduces 
her heroine as a child, and draws her with 
the same winning, sympathetic, understanding 
touch that made “ Emmy Lou ” so real. 

Mrs. Martin’ s book is notable for its true 
pictures of Southern life, its apt delineation of 
Southern types, and the keen way in which it 
exhibits the antagonizing elements in Southern 
and Northern character. The love story is 
simple and idyllic, and all the more moving and 
real for that reason. 

Eight illustrations by George Alfred Williams 
$1.50 

SicCIure, Philips & Co. 


Idp Hatton am eg Caggart 


Author of “The Wyndham Girls” 

THE LITTLE GREY HOUSE 

r 

This is a delightful story about young peo- 
ple — the inhabitants of “The Little Grey 
House” — who find themselves confronted with 
misfortune and privations, and manage to keep 
cheerful and sunshiny through it all. Rarely 
is such a wholesome and lovable crowd of 
youngsters found together in a book. The in- 
cidents in their lives are very simple, but real; 
the kind that young girls and boys will like to 
read about. The book has a touch of boy and 
girl romance that makes it all the more de- 
lightful. 

It is a book that will especially appeal to 
girls, and is written vivaciously and entertain- 
ingly. 

Frontispiece in colors 
$ 1.25 

QicClure, P!nlUp0 & Co. 



Bp 0E)pra Ikellp 


LITTLE CITIZENS 

r 

IT has been Miss Kelly’s good fortune to dis- 
cover a brand new set of characters. She has 
had the further good fortune to be possessed of 
the true gift of humor. Her little citizens are 
the children — Jewish, Irish, Italian, all nation- 
alities, in fact — who attend one of the many 
large public schools on the New York East Side. 
To Miss Kelly they are an inspiration to con- 
tinuous merriment. Their mischievous infan- 
tile antics, their race prejudices and customs, 
their weird superstitions and strange point 
of view, have been woven by the author into 
these stories with an evident enjoyment that is 
infectious. For all their queerness and their 
odd manner of speech, hers are flesh and blood 
children, and, as she depicts them, quite as real 
as they are amusing. The book is principally 
about children, but the older people of the East 
Side appear quite frequently, and, when they 
do, furnish quite as much entertainment as the 
youngsters. 

Illustrations by W. D. Stevens 
$1.50 


S0cCIure, PinlHps & Co. 


Marin £0tcl)aelte 

Translated by John Nilsen Laurvik 

ANDREA 

r 

This is a story of child-life by a famous Dan- 
ish author that has taken Denmark and Ger- 
many by storm. It is praised by the German 
critics as the truest book of child-life ever writ- 
ten. The heroine is a little girl with a ‘ ‘ warm, 
warm heart” and a disposition that sheds hap- 
piness even in the midst of childish troubles. 
She lies in a sick-bed close to death, and many 
are her tribulations; the worst, that her father 
and mother are in some way mysteriously es- 
tranged. Her great desire is that she may 
bring them to join hands again and be happy 
before she leaves them, and it is to the accom- 
plishment of this she consecrates the last days 
of her life. The account of her schemings and 
plannings and hopings is both amusing and 
pathetic. After her death her father and 
mother find a diary that she kept, and read it 
together. It opens their eyes and brings the rec- 
onciliation that Andrea so devoutly wished. 

$1.00 

8©cClure, p&iUips & Co. 



WV £>tetoart CUtuarfi 


Author of “The Blazed Trail” 

BLAZED TRAIL STORIES 

A BOOK of characteristic tales of the lum- 
bering regions of the great Northwest. The 
reader will find in them, portrayed with great 
freshness and strength, a life, a people, and an 
industry new to him and almost untouched in 
fiction. 

Mr. White here tells stories of sturdy man- 
hood; stories in which men are not only strong 
in muscle, but strong in the elemental virtues — 
courage, honesty, faithfulness, devotion to duty, 
and self-sacrifice; men who are willing, for ex- 
ample, to risk their lives in the perils of a big 
log jam in order to save a comrade; who will de- 
fend their employer’s property against destroy- 
ing ruffians until beaten into insensibility; who 
will fight, until their last breath, blackguards 
trying to demoralize a camp with whisky. 
Mr. White knows the people of the forest, and 
he knows the forest itself in all its moods and in 
all its seasons. His pages are fairly perfumed 
with the breath of the pines. The book in- 
cludes also several tales dealing with life on the 
plains of the Southwest. 

Illustrated by Thomas Fogarty 
$ 1.50 

0@cClure, Plumps 8 , Co. 


HXX* 3K ^aygott 

Author of “John Vytal ” 

DEBONNAIRE 

r 

Telling how Debonnaire, devil-may-care, 
captain of the Carignan Salieres, swore, at a 
Christmas dinner in a frontier post of New 
France, that he would win the love of the beau- 
tiful Irene de Cadillac, belle of New Amster- 
dam; how he traveled to New Amsterdam as a 
minstrel; and how, after fighting for her favor 
against the treacherous and plotting burghers 
of the Dutch colony, he won the maid to bride. 
A sparkling tale full of the high heart-beats of 
courtly romance. 

Eight illustrations by Thomas Fogarty 

$1.50 

SgRClurc, PtuUips 8 Co. 



Bp Slntponp $ope 

Author of “The Dolly Dialogues” 

DOUBLE HARNESS 

r 

A NOVEL of married Londoners, picturing 
with much cleverness of character-drawing the 
trials and rewards that come to those who trot 
in “ Double Harness.” The story centers 
around a young girl, full of feminine idealism, 
who is married to a man of fine character, but 
very stolid, matter of fact, turn of mind. They 
become estranged, but the matrimonial mis- 
haps, blunders and tragedies of their friends, to 
which they are witnesses, furnish both the 
woman and the man a lesson in their own folly. 

The novel has all the wittiness of Mr. Hope’s 
previous works. It is, in addition, a much 
deeper and more thoughtful story; a true novel 
that gives very real glimpses into the life of the 
smart upper set of London. 

$1.50 


QicCIute, P&UUps & Co. 



Bp atrniltam alien Kltiite 

Author of “The Court of Boyville” 

STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS 

r 

STORIES of love and politics, the scenes of 
which are laid chiefly in the Middle West, 
where politics is no devious and hidden current, 
but flows close to the surface and exerts a mold- 
ing influence upon the lives of the people. Mr. 
White knows Middle West politics through and 
through. Each story that he here tells presents 
some striking situation where politics and love 
put a man to the test. As presentations of a 
very characteristic feature in American life 
they are incisive and absorbing. Moreover, 
they throw an interesting light upon the under 
methods of politics in the Western country. 

Illustrated by A. W. Kellar 
$1.50 

QicCIure, PftflUpg & Co. 



Wp l). latter ^aggarti 

Author of “Allan Quartermain” 

THE BRETHREN 

r 

An adventurous and romantic story of the 
days of the Crusades. It is full of the pagean- 
try of knighthood and the gorgeousness of 
Oriental life. Part of the action passes in Eng- 
land and part in the Holy Land in the tents of 
Saladin. The main characters of the story are 
a beautiful girl, Rosamund, half Oriental, half 
Christian, niece of Saladin, who seeks to make 
her his captive, and two brothers, English 
knights, who are in love with her and set out for 
the Holy Land to rescue her. The author of 
“King Solomon’s Mines” has here furnished 
his most exciting story. Perils and adventures 
without number fall the path of “The Breth- 
ren,” but the quest upon which together they 
set out so chivalrously, with the high hope of 
love in both their hearts, is successfully ac- 
complished and the valor of both is at length 
rewarded. 

Sixteen illustrations by H. R. Millar 
$1.50 

9§cClure, Philips & Co. 


Bp Cptus CotonsenD BraDp 

Author of “Border Fights and Fighters” 

INDIAN FIGHTS AND FIGHTERS 

Vol. IV in American Fights and Fighters Series 

r 

STORIES, biographical and historical, of 
our Indian wars, laying particular stress upon 
the heroes that took part in them. Part I deals 
with the winning of the Far West, and Part II 
with the war with the Sioux. Among the chap- 
ter headings are: The Tragedy of Fort Phil 
Kearney, Forsythe’s Rough Riders of ’68, The 
Battle of the Wishita, Rain in the Face, Custer’s 
Defeat on the Little Big Horn Creek, and The 
Battle of the Rose-Bud, Mackenzie and the 
Cheyennes. These stories have been prepared 
from official records and personal memorabilia 
furnished by officers and civilians. They con- 
tain a great deal that has never before appeared 
in print. The articles have been commented 
upon and revised by many of the participants in 
the incidents, such as General Miles, General 
Hughes, General Forsythe, Colonel Godfrey, etc. 

Illustrated 

Postpaid, $1.45. Net, $1.30 


9§cClure, PfiHHps & Co. 



3Sp George JHatitien jEarttn 


EMMY LOU, HER BOOK AND 
HEART 

r 

Emmy lou, her book and heart, 

by George Madden Martin, is the simple rela- 
tion of Emmy Lou’s school days, from the 
First Reader up through the High School. In 
these stories Mrs. Martin has created the most 
winsomely lovely little girl in contemporary 
fiction. Moreover, she has drawn the first 
faithful and sympathetic picture of American 
public-school life. Mrs. Martin’s wonderful 
insight into the growth of the child’s mind 
gives these stories all the dramatic coherence 
and development of a great novel. 

In his illustrations Charles L. Hinton has 
shown the same ability and sympathy with 
children that Mrs. Martin displays in the nar- 
rative. 15th Thousand $1.50 

^HcClurt, p^tlltpjs 8, Co. 


3By Henry Harlanti 


Author of “The Cardinal’s Snuff Box” 

MY FRIEND PROSPERO 

r 

A NOVEL which will fascinate by the grace 
and charm with which it is written, by the de- 
lightful characters that take part in it, and by 
the interest of the plot. The scene is laid in 
a magnificent Austrian castle in North Italy, 
and that serves as a background for the work- 
ing out of a sparkling love-story between a 
heroine who is brilliant and beautiful and a 
hero who is quite her match in cleverness and 
wit. It is a book with all the daintiness and 
polish of Mr. Harland’s former novels, and 
other virtues all its own. 

Frontispiece in colors by Louis Loeb. 

$ 1.50 


McClure* p^tlKpjS & Co. 



George JHatitieti JHarttn 


EMMY LOU, HER BOOK AND 
HEART 

r 

Emmy lou, her book and heart, 

by George Madden Martin, is the simple rela- 
tion of Emmy Lou’s school days, from the 
First Reader up through the High School. In 
these stories Mrs. Martin has created the most 
winsomely lovely little girl in contemporary 
fiction. Moreover, she has drawn the first 
faithful and sympathetic picture of American 
public-school life. Mrs. Martin’s wonderful 
insight into the growth of the child’s mind 
gives these stories all the dramatic coherence 
and development of a great novel. 

In his illustrations Charles L. Hinton has 
shown the same ability and sympathy with 
children that Mrs. Martin displays in the nar- 
rative. 15th Thousand $1.50 

jHcClutr, p&UUpjs & Co. 


%)tnxy fbarlattti 


Author of “The Cardinal’s Snuff Box** 

MY FRIEND PROSPERO 

r 

A. NOVEL which will fascinate by the grace 
and charm with which it is written, by the de- 
lightful characters that take part in it, and by 
the interest of the plot. The scene is laid in 
a magnificent Austrian castle in North Italy, 
and that serves as a background for the work- 
ing out of a sparkling love-story between a 
heroine who is brilliant and beautiful and a 
hero who is quite her match in cleverness and 
wit. It is a book with all the daintiness and 
polish of Mr. Harland’s former novels, and 
other virtues all its own. 

Frontispiece in colors by Louis Loeb. 

$1.50 


McClure, philips & Co. 



Classics of Cfnlhfjooti 


THE MADNESS OF PHILIP 


By Josephine Daskam 


^TORIES of fascinatingly bad and good chil- 
^ dren, told with charming humor. 


“Delightful stories about children. Miss Daskam’s 
book is of the kind that makes the world better, for it 
is as refreshing as childhood itself.” 

— Syracuse Post Standard. 

Illustrated by F. Y. Cory, $1.50 


$ 

THE COURT OF BOYVILLE 


By William Allen White 


fFALES of delightfully human boys and their 
doings. 


“We accompany Mr. White with joy and confidence, 
and we come away from his Boyville soothed, softened, 
and refreshed as from a sojourn with nature’s self.” 

— Chicago Post. 

Illustrated. $1.50 


EMMY LOU , THE MADNESS OF PHILIP , and 
THE COURT OF BOYVILLE are published in a special 
uniform edition , red cloth , satin finish , gold side and 
back stamp , gold top. The three in a box. Sold only 
in sets , $6.00. 


McClure, iMjtlltps & Co. 



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SEP a 2 ■ 1904 






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